The Mail Order Bride
by JacksonRobKellan
Summary: "Why are you so upset?" he asked. "My dad sold me to a man that neither of us knew. Care to ask a less stupid question?" I replied. "Do you love me?" "Truly, unconditionally; more than I've ever loved anyone in my whole life," I answered simply. "Happy?"
1. Chapter 1: Hate

A/N: I've had this story idea for a long time now. I don't know how I got "bride" out of "gift" during a conversation between my parents at Christmas time, but I did, and this story was created. I'd like to thank my betas Mel, TitaRita, and 4meJasper. They've helped so much!  
>I'd also like to thank my other beta, <strong><em>Christina<em>**. She was with me since this idea popped into my head and without her this story wouldn't make as much sense as it does and the plot line would be completely different. No where near as good as it is now.

You girls rock my soxs :)! (That was bad...)

I'm on Twilighted by the same name. I am hoping to be published on there soon. That's my goal :).

**Full Summary: "Well, Mr. Swan, I didn't someone would actually...call."  
>Isabella Swan is eighteen years old with a promising career in dance and has a loving family. At least, she had a loving family until Edward Cullen took her as his wife. Bella is fiercely loyal, wears her heart on her sleeve, and loves with everything she has; Edward Cullen is her complete opposite. He's lonely, wildly misunderstood, and doesn't believe in falling in love.<strong>

Can an unusual situation bring these two something more than they bargained for?

Warning: Mentions past self-harm and abuse (Sexual|Physical|Verbal)

DISCLAMER: I do not own Twilight or anything dealing with the series; therefore, I do not own the characters. The plot, though, that's _all_ **mine**.

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><p><em>Chapter 1: Hate<em>

_**Are you suffering due to the economy? Are you struggling to survive?  
>Is your family slowly—figuratively speaking—dying before your eyes? Is your daughter no younger than eighteen or no older than twenty-six? Are you still caring for her in this poor economy?<br>No worries. I'll take her off your hands as my new wife. Money will be offered.  
>If you're desperate, call: 206.848.6647<strong>_

_SEATTLE, WASHINGTONG|MALE|TWENTY-TWO|6'4|RICH_

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><p>"<em>Well, Mr. Swan, I didn't think someone would actually…call," a female sitting in my family's living room spoke quietly, the surprise and disbelief evident in her voice.<em>

_I could see Charlie fidgeting in his seat before running a hand through his hair. "Well, uh, the ad said 'call if you're, um, desperate.'"_

_There was a long pause as the two of them stared at each other. I couldn't see his face, but Dad seemed to be sweating bullets under the beautiful blonde's watchful eye. Her eyes caught his every move-from a blink of his eyes to a twitch of his hand- he caught it. Her expression seemed to be stuck between disgust and sadness. Mournful. _

_"I guess we did. I just… Never mind. Mr. Swan, if you're really willing to do this, he'd like her with him as soon as possible. Pictures, medical information, education background, and anything else you think we may need before Mr. Edward is able to make a decision. If he picks you, twenty thousand dollars will be placed into a bank account for you. A contract will also be signed stating that no law enforcement agencies will be contacted and that you understand if Isabella was to leave, the money given to you will need to be returned. Your daughter will also need to come willingly and be old enough to understand and sign a prenup and a marriage license."_

"_She's eighteen," Charlie answered immediately._

"_Mr. Swan, you do understand what you would be doing if Edward were to choose her? Sir, you could possibly be losing a lot more than your daughter. Are you sure this is what you want to do?" she asked with her voice as fierce as the fire that now burned in her eyes._

"_I know what I'm doing, Ms. Hale, thank you," Dad spoke up and I could imagine him glaring daggers at the lady. His once nervous and cautious voice was now full of confidence and anger, his decision set in stone._

_The beautiful blonde stood up from the fold-out chair that had been placed in front of our coffee table. She looked up at where I was sitting on the staircase, and our eyes locked and I gasped as I could practically __feel __the sympathy and pity that shone in her eyes wash over me in waves; it was then I finally understood what was going on._

_I don't know what took me so long to figure it out, but I finally understood who the "her" in their conversation was. I finally understood that I'd never be back here again._

"_Do you think I'm a bad father?" Charlie whispered once her eyes were back on him, obviously not noticing our silent exchange._

_She didn't say anything for the longest moment, just stared at a picture of my family and me that was above our fireplace before the fire in her eyes returned, "Yes, Charlie, I do."_

It was also then that I realized I'd just become someone's new trophy.

My dad had just sold me.

_I walked down the stairs just as my dad came back into the living room after seeing Ms. Hale out. He stopped mid step and looked at me in surprise, not having been prepared to have this conversation at this time._

"_Dad," I asked in disbelief, "what the hell have you done?"_

_**~MOB~**_

Tears ran down my face, but I quickly rubbed them away when I caught the woman sitting next to me staring at me, concern clear in her eyes. I didn't want anybody's pity, nor did I need it. I'd been a big girl for a while now, and it was time I started acting like one. I could handle my problems on my own.

At least, I was going to just as soon as someone helped me obtain more information about my husband. _My husband; God, I'm eighteen and married. I'm eighteen and married, and I don't know anything about the man I'm married to! I don't know his age, I don't know what he does for a living—hell, I don't even know his name! _Charlie didn't think to give me that information before shipping me off to some random stranger. The only thing that mattered to him was all the money he would be getting for shipping me off to said stranger. This man could be as old as my _grandfather_ for all I know.

"It is 5:35 in the evening, and we have just arrived in Seattle. Please take your seats and fasten your seatbelts so you all may remain safe during this landing. I am your pilot, Ron Johnson, and thank you for flying Air—Tran," a voice announced to everyone on the plane.

I fastened my seatbelt and closed my eyes, imagining all the ways I could kill myself. Maybe I was being overly dramatic, but any other girl in my position, I'm sure, would be feeling the exact same way. Being sold doesn't exactly leave you feeling all warm and fuzzy on the inside. Though, I left willingly, so I couldn't complain. Much.

"Fuck," I hissed and slammed the plane's window shut to block away the glaringly bright sunlight, clearing away all suicidal thoughts from my head.

No matter how depressing, and now non-existent, my life was, I was _not_ ready to die. Not now, and hopefully not any time soon.

_**~MOB~**_

"Come on!" I yelled to no one in particular, though a few people were eyeing me like I was yelling at them. I fell to my knees with a soft thud and loud groan and began picking up my things. _God, could I be any more embarrassed than I already am?_

I thought too soon.

"Ma'am, I believe these are yours." I looked up to see a tall, tan airport security guard holding my panties-my butterfly panties.

I had already fallen getting off the plane, my suitcases had popped open and now a security guard was holding a pair of my underwear, up high for the world to see. My butterfly panties. So if it hasn't become painstakingly clear, the answer was yes—I could be more embarrassed than I had already been. "Thank you, Officer." I tried to smile, but it just wasn't working for me at the moment.

I snatched them away from him and quickly shoved them back into my suitcase along with my other stuff that had fallen out and stood up, walking outside as quickly as I could.

It was because of moments like these that I would wish for a cell phone. I didn't need one back home because there weren't many emergencies that required a cell phone, but going out of state and not being able to find the Aphrodite, better known as Ms. Hale, who's supposed to be picking me up did. I began walking around aimlessly until my clumsiness decided to kick in, sending me and all my stuff onto the cold, concrete ground.

Again.

I stood up quickly and picked up all my bags before turning to face the woman I ran into. She stood at a reasonable height of five-seven with golden brown skin. Her dark-brown hair fell down in soft curls and stopped mid-back, gray lingering in every lock. She had curves that could put Beyonce to shame underneath her yellow sundress; her eyes were a pretty light blue and, if the gray hair is any indication, she had to be in her early fifties, but she doesn't look a day over forty.

Now, where my gracefulness was lacking, my luck picked up its slack. How lucky was it that I bumped into the woman carrying a sign with my name on it? Uh, very much so if you asked me.

"I'm sorry about that. I wasn't paying much attention. Obviously." I cracked a small smile at her tinkering laughter.

Her face relaxed into a smile I assumed she wore all the time; it was warm, pleasant, and very welcoming, "That's quite all right, dear. From the small amount of shock on your face, is it safe to assume you're Isabella Swan?"

I nodded my head. "Isabella Swan I am, yes, but…you're not Rosalie?" I pointed out the obvious, but it came out more as a question than me pointing out the obvious.

She laughed again and said, "No, no I'm not. I'm Cynthia, the help. Rosalie couldn't make it, so I offered to take her place."

My eyebrows shot up. "Does this guy really go around calling you his help? Like in the movie? I haven't seen it, but I guess that's what you are, but…damn, now I feel kind of like an Elitist and I promise you I'm not."

She threw her head back and laughed a genuine laugh, her blue eyes sparkling with emotions. "Master Edward does not call me that. I just like to tell people that now because every person always has a different reaction to that statement, and I always get a kick out of them; nice or not," she explained.

I got the feeling that this woman was not one to get upset easily, and that was a good quality for her and something good to know. With the way I'd been feeling, I was going to need someone who wouldn't get pissed at me for exploding. And then my thoughts shifted to Edward."That's a very old-fashioned name, and seriously? He doesn't call you his help, but he goes around making you call him Master Edward?"

I fixed my carry-on backpack on my shoulders in a more comfortable position and grabbed my other bags and began to run after Cynthia as she turned away from me without warning. "He doesn't make me call him Master Edward; he can't make me do anything. He absolutely hates it when I call him that which is why I do it. It makes for a great laugh."

I laughed and threw my things into the back of the Dodge Caliber we were riding in and hopped into the passenger seat. I immediately hit her with the twenty questions. "So, I've already figured out that his name is Edward. What else can you tell me about him? His age? What does he do for a living? What does he look like?"

The car came to a stop at a red light, and Cynthia turned her head to look at me with wide, surprised eyes. "You don't know anything about him? Your dad didn't give you the packet of information Edward was so kind as to send you?" she asked sarcastically, rolling those baby blues.

Cynthia began to tell me all about Edward, but I couldn't bring myself to pay attention to her. Charlie received a packet of information from Edward that was obviously meant for me just as much as it was for him, and he didn't let me see it? He allowed me to live in the dark, completely terrified of not knowing who I was being sent to; God, as if I didn't have enough reasons to hate him. "Oh, and to answer your previous questions, he's twenty-two and he's a lawyer," Cynthia finished.

_How ironic: someone who's supposed to know the law like the back of their hand is the one breaking it._

I snorted and said, "A lawyer."

The car was once again in motion as soon as the light turned green. "The irony does not escape me either. The four years age difference doesn't bother you?"

I shook my head. "No. Four years isn't that big of a deal. I'm just glad he's not the age of my grandfather or something. That was one of my fears."

She let out a soft chuckle. "That would be one of mine, too. Is there anything else you're scared of? I'm sure I can clear up some of that for you," Cynthia offered. I shook my head and continued to look out the window. My stubborn, woman all alone wall back up in full force. I was a big girl, and I would handle all my problems on my own, including my fears.

Cynthia sighed. "While the three of us know that what he's doing isn't right, we also know he's not forcing you to be here. You can leave and go home if you want. Isabella, I want you to know that Edward isn't a bad guy. He's just wildly misunderstood and lonely, though I did tell him this wasn't the way to fix that," she admitted, "but I do think this could possibly be the best thing for him. I wish you two could have met under different circumstances because, Isabella, I think you'll be good for him."

I let out a loud, unlady like snort and shook my head vigorously. "Even if that's true, it doesn't matter. Maybe I am good for him, but that doesn't mean I have to be good _to_ him, Cynthia. I don't want anything to do with him."

"Isabella, I can sit here and tell you all the things that make Edward a good man, but at the same time I should tell you that he isn't kind or generous to just anybody. He's already said that he isn't obliged to take care of you if you decide to, in his words, be an ungrateful b-word. You have to at least make an effort to be civil toward him," Cynthia told me firmly. There was no room for argument in her voice.

"I can be civil," I allowed.

Cynthia sighed quietly and turned right, putting us onto a freeway and letting the conversation drop. _For now_. My thoughts had echoed in my head.

_**~MOB~**_

The first thing to run through my mind when we exited the freeway and into a neighborhood was, _damn, he's rich_. The second thing I thought was the same as the first one, but with less awe and more anger. _Damn, he's rich and he was able to buy me_. There was also a little bit of resentment there, too.

Cynthia pulled us into a driveway, and I think I died and went to heaven. The house was huge, and if I had to make a guess, I'd say there were about six bedrooms inside. The biggest house I had ever stayed in was mine and that had just two bedrooms and a bathroom; this was a mansion compared to my old house. The driveway was long and steep and led you around to the side of the house to two large garage doors.

I didn't make a move to get out of the car, as the reality of what I was about to do finally setting in; I'm eighteen and married to a man I had never even met. "You go on, Cynthia, I'll be inside in a minute," I told her. "I need a moment."

She nodded her head in understanding and got out of the car. "It's going to okay, Isabella."

"Cynthia!" I yelled before she could close the door, "call me Bella, please." She smiled at me before going into the house.

I stared at the clock after Cynthia left and watched five minutes pass by. "It's now or never, Bella," I told myself. Opening the passenger door, I was only able to get my right leg out before the garage door opened. My body froze when a man I assumed was Edward walked into the garage.

_No! _I shouted in my head, _I was supposed to come to you! I was supposed to be prepared! I'm not prepared!_

"Hello, Isabella, I'm…" he cleared his throat, "…Edward Cullen." His voice was velvety, yet rough and gruff all at once; deep. His hair, which made him look like he just got out of bed, was bronze, and he wore khaki shorts and a white button-up shirt that was opened on the bottom, revealing a white wife-beater.

I wanted to scream at him the instant he spoke because I could already feel one of my worst fears coming true, but I remembered promising Cynthia that I would be civil toward him, so I swallowed my anger and put on a small smile. "It's, uh, nice to meet you," I told him. I stared him down, trying to decipher the emotions in his eyes and on his face, but they were gone just as fast as they appeared until there was nothing at all. Until there was nothing but cold, dead eyes.

He took the hand I offered him and shook it quickly before releasing it. "I hope you'll be happy here, Isabella."

I snorted and said, "Not likely."

Edward's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

My eyes widened, and I shook my head. "Nothing. Sorry. Can I go inside now? Find my room and take a shower, maybe even have a decent meal before I hit the sack?" I asked him as politely as I could and cringed, because that did not come out sounding polite at all.

"Can you cook?" Edward asked after a minute of silence.

_Way to avoid my question, jerk._

I narrowed my eyes. "Yes, I can cook. And I can clean. I can do all of the wifely tasks you may need from me, Edward. I do, however, refuse to have sex with you."

He nodded his head. "I wasn't planning on having sex with you. Ever. I wouldn't," he assured me.

I rolled my eyes and looked away from him because, damn, that kind of hurt, but then I got even angrier. I was not supposed to be hurt because he didn't want to have sex with me. I should be okay with that, because I didn't want to have sex with him either. But I couldn't deny that it did hurt because the hole starting to form in my chest wouldn't allow me to lie to myself.

_Hate him. Hate him. Hate him. Hate him. Hate. Him, _I chanted repeatedly in my head. One of my fears was getting too close, and the longer I stood there talking to him; the more my fear was coming true_. He's so handsome_. But, hatred topped good looks every time.

_I was always attracted to the assholes. _

"Are you okay?" Edward asked. I screamed and nearly jumped out of my skin, banging my head against the car ceiling. I turned my head to see Edward squatting down next to me, much closer than he was just a minute ago. "You've been spaced out for about five minutes now."

I took a deep breath before nodding my head. "Yes, yes, I'm fine, thank you." I lifted up my head to look him in the eye and let out a small gasp. I watched him speak and looked into his eyes with anger, but looking at them just then, caught me off guard. I could see how beautiful those sea green eyes were. They were stormy and filled with emotions that I couldn't decode. "They're so green," I whispered.

_So green like your favorite color, so green like your mother's eyes, so green like Forks, so green like home._

_Home. God, I miss home. His eyes remind me of home, _the other half of me, the romantic side of me, Romancella I've dubbed her, spoke to me in my head quietly. She sighed dreamily, and I rolled my eyes internally, snapping out of the haze and threatening to lock her up inside a cage if she doesn't stay quiet.

"You're talking about my eyes?" he said, and if I wasn't watching his lips so closely, I would've missed the small smirk that started to form. "Thanks, I guess, I get that all the time."

"Can you move, please? I'd like to get out of the car now," I snapped, feeling vulnerable and out of place. He stood up and headed to the back and got my bags out for me. "I can do that myself, you know," I told him.

He nodded his head and abruptly dropped my bags to the ground. "Fine, I'd rather not help someone who's going to snap at me at the most random of times."

"But was it really necessary to drop my bags on the ground?" I asked him. I walked over to where he was and picked them up, glaring at him.

"It was. You didn't want my help getting them out or taking them in. I imagine you wouldn't want me to bring them to you either," he said with a smirk cockier than a real one.

That smirk, plus what I was allowing to happen, plus what Romancella said finally caused me to snap. "God, I HATE YOU!"

"You hate me?"

I nodded my head and stepped closer to him, suddenly ready to give him a piece of my mind. "Yes, Edward Cullen, I. Hate. You. I hate you for putting out that stupid ad, I hate you for buying me, and I hate my dad for selling me to you. I. HATE. YOU! I'll be the perfect wife you need me to be in public and around your family, but other than that I want nothing to do with you, okay?"

I didn't give him a chance to answer. Instead walked into the house, bags be damned, ran past Cynthia despite her concerned voice calling after me, and found the nearest bathroom so I could cry in private.

_And I hate that you make me feel at home._


	2. Chapter 2: Stay or Go

A/N: Here is chapter two! Thank you, Erin, for your help with this one! Much appreciated, girl :).

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Twilight or anything dealing with the series; therefore, I do not own the character. The plot, though, is _all_ **mine.**

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><p>Chapter 2: Stay or Go<p>

_Charlie's eyes widened and the expression on his face was one of panic. "Bella, I'm not sure I understand what you're talking about," he said. "Ms. Hale is an old friend of your mother's. She just wanted to know how she was doing with the death of Grandma Eve," he blatantly lied. _

"_Dad, are you really going to stand there and lie to me?" I asked him. "I heard every word you two said! I know what you did! Why are you lying to me?" I yelled._

"_I'm just trying to protect you," he muttered._

_I laughed humorlessly. "There is absolutely no way in hell you actually believe that what you're doing is protecting me," I said in disbelief._

_Dad shook his head and closed his eyes before scrubbing his face with his hands. "I'm not talking about that," he whispered. "Bella, you don't understand…"_

"_Of course I don't understand!" I screamed." How could I understand? You just sold me…"_

"_I didn't sell you," he protested. "We don't even know if he's going to pick you. I'm just trying to keep all my options open, Isabella," he explained._

"_All of your options open? Options for what, dad?" I asked him in confusion._

"_Bella…" He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck nervously before continuing, "… We're broke."_

_I rolled my eyes. "Dad, I understand that our money situation is really shitty right now, but…"_

_Charlie cut me off with a fierce look. "We're on the verge of losing our house, Bella. I did some really horrible things_, _and now I owe a serious debt. I could lose my home and my job, Bella. I can't let that happen."_

"_So… what? Are you just going to send me away without so much as an explanation as to why? You don't seriously think 'I did some really horrible things and now I owe a serious debt' is enough of an explanation, do you?" I asked. "I deserve a whole lot more than that. And honestly, I hope you don't actually expect me to go live with this guy. I won't do it, Dad, I refuse to," I said firmly._

_Charlie shook his head and narrowed his eyes at me. "If you don't do it, Isabella, you're going to have to get out."_

_**~MOB~**_

The next morning I woke up and began to panic immediately because I couldn't remember where I was, but yesterday's events began to fill my panicked mind and I calmed down. I vaguely remembered staying in the bathroom for so long that I fell asleep, and then someone brought me to a room; this room, my room. I allowed my eyes to adjust to the bright light coming in from the window and looked around.

It was pretty big. The walls were honey mustard yellow and the floor was hardwood. A brown dresser sat next to the entrance by a beige TV stand with a flat-screen TV sitting on it. A black lounge chair sat in the corner of the room with a lamp behind it. My twin-sized mattress was sitting on top of a white platform with two drawers on the left side, a headboard with two doors on both sides, with space for books and other things behind it, a white night stand sat beside the bed. Two white fold-out doors covered the space that I assumed to be the closet. I also noted with surprise that my bags had been placed in the room and concluded that this room was mine.

It was where I'd be staying for an unknown amount of time.

A knock on the door brought me out of my musings, and I did what I could to my hair before croaking out a "come in." The door opened slowly and a familiar face came into view. "Hello," she said, smiling brightly. "How are you this morning, dear?" Cynthia asked.

I buried my face in my hands and groaned quietly. "Thoroughly embarrassed," I told her.

It was true. I didn't ever lose my cool or my calm, but last night I had and I couldn't believe it. It had to have been a new record in the "most immature" category, the way I had gone stomping off like that.

Cynthia laughed. "As to be expected after throwing a tantrum like that," she said. "Don't be though; if I were in your shoes, I'd be upset too."

I sighed and removed my head from my hands to look at her. "You heard what happened, eh?" I asked.

Cynthia nodded and began backing out of the room after placing a toothbrush and toothpaste on the counter. "I did, and we can talk about it over breakfast, if you like," she offered. "I wasn't sure if you remembered to pack your toothbrush, so I got one for you."

"Thank you," I said gratefully. "I always forget it."

She nodded her head and grinned at me before turning around to leave. "Oh, the bathroom is the door on the right at the very end of the hall," she called out just before closing the door.

I huffed and flopped back down, throwing both my hands over my face. I began to think about last night and tried to come to grips with everything I had done. I cringed and rolled my eyes mentally as everything I had said played on repeat in my head. Was everything I had said to Edward true? Did I really hate him?

I wasn't so sure anymore. Truthfully, I wasn't sure of anything anymore. I knew I needed to apologize to both Edward and Cynthia, though: Cynthia because I broke my promise and Edward because he didn't deserve to be yelled at. At least, he didn't deserve to be yelled at until I knew for sure whether he did or not.

With that in mind, I hopped out of bed and grabbed my things for the shower and the toothbrush and toothpaste Cynthia had left for me, before I headed to the bathroom to take a much needed shower.

_**~MOB~**_

I changed into a pair of jean shorts and a black tank top after I showered. I brushed my hair until all the tangles were gone and placed it into a big, messy bun. I put on my blue converse as well, because I figured I would go outside at some point of the day then went downstairs.

The smell of a wonderful breakfast hit me as soon as I stepped into the kitchen, and my stomach grumbled loudly. Cynthia turned around from the stove and laughed. "Are you hungry?" she asked.

I nodded. "Yes. I haven't eaten since the day before yesterday," I admitted.

Cynthia frowned as she cut off the stove and turned to look at me. "Why haven't you eaten since then? It's not healthy to go without eating, you know," she said.

I sat on the stool at the island and began to dig in to my big plate of eggs, bacon, and French toast gratefully. "I know," I said. "I was just too nervous yesterday to eat at all, and then I went to sleep without eating last night because I forgot," I explained.

Cynthia looked perplexed at my statement. "You… forgot to eat? How do you forget to eat?" she asked.

"I was too upset and it slipped my mind," I told her. "I usually eat like a guy, though, so don't worry about it." I didn't want her thinking I didn't eat.

She gave me a nod before she sat in front of me at the island and began to eat her own food. "Did you want to talk about last night, Bella?" she asked me after a few minutes of silence.

I put my fork down, done with my plate of food already, and shrugged. "First off, I want to say sorry. I know I promised you I'd be civil, and what I said to Edward wasn't exactly civil-like," I said sheepishly. "Honestly, I don't even know where all that came from. He just smirked at me and I fucking lost it. I'd been saying I hated my dad since the day he had told me what was going on, but I hadn't realized just how true that feeling was until yesterday."

I shook my head. "No, I don't hate him. I don't think. I don't know what I'm feeling anymore, Cynthia. Everything I'm feeling is like a jumbled piece of yarn, and every time I think I've unraveled one there are more. Anyways, back to Edward. I wasn't feeling anything toward him until I saw him. All my anger came back ten-fold and, like I said, I just lost it, and now I'm not sure if that anger was misplaced or if he deserved it," I told her.

"So you told him you hate him and you're not sure if that's true?" she asked.

I nodded and laid my head on the island's counter. "I'm just so damn confused. I seriously don't know what to feel, Cynthia. I'm not even sure I'm going to stay," I admitted.

When Cynthia spoke next, I could hear the surprise in her voice. "You're not sure you're even going to stay?" she asked. "Don't you think that was something you should have thought out fully _before_ saying yes?"

"I did think about it!" I sat up and glared at her. "I thought about it for an entire week, Cynthia, before I signed that damned thing! If I had a fucking choice, I wouldn't have chosen this, but I didn't. Now that I'm here, though, now that I've met Edward, I don't think I can do this. My dad did some pretty shitty stuff, yet _I'm_ the one paying for it!" I yelled. I jumped up from the stool I was sitting on and began to pace furiously. "It is _not_ fair that he decides to be an idiot, yet I'm the one who has to suffer."

"What about your mother?" Cynthia asked.

I rolled my eyes and huffed. "Don't even get me started on that selfish woman! God, Cynthia, she didn't even come home to say goodbye! She stayed where she was and sat on her ass while I was being while I was being sold for my father's debts! What the fuck is her problem? Who willingly gives up their child to some guy like that?" I asked.

Cynthia cleared her throat when my ranting finally stopped. "So… you're angry then?"

"I don't know!" I exploded. "I don't know if I'm angry. I can't describe what I'm feeling," I whimpered pathetically. Hot tears pooled into my eyes, and I tried hard to keep them from spilling over, but when the first two fat ones fell, there was no stopping the others. I fell to my knees and began to sob, not caring at the moment that someone was watching.

It didn't matter if I did care, though. I knew Cynthia wasn't going to let me be embarrassed. She fell down to her knees with a soft thud and pulled me into her warm embrace, hugging me as if my life depended on it. "Don't you worry, honey, everything's going to be all right," she murmured softly in my ear.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry," I said when I stopped crying and realized I'd messed up Cynthia's shirt.

She rolled her eyes. "Bella, I have a son and two grandkids, I'm used to this," she said.

I smiled at that. "A son and two grandkids," I repeated. "What are their names?"

"My son's name is Robert, my grandson's name is Kellan, and my granddaughter's name is Kristen-Avery," she said proudly.

I grinned. "Those are nice names. Kristen-Avery I particularly like."

She nodded her head. "Me too, but tell them I said that and I'll deny it. They'll never let me live it down if I pick a favorite name." She laughed and I laughed right along with her.

I sighed when the laughter died down. "Where is Edward?" I asked.

"He went to work, but he should be home right about…" She stopped talking when the sound of the garage opening could be heard. "Now," she finished. "It's 'bout time I get home, girly," Cynthia said.

I nodded my head and watched her walk away. I wanted her to stay just because I was scared of what Edward was going to say or do, but I knew she wouldn't and I wasn't going to ask her.

_I picked a shitty time to grow up_, I thought warily to myself.

Edward's footsteps got closer and closer until he was standing in the kitchen doorway, jacket thrown over his shoulder and briefcase in hand. He stopped suddenly when is eyes landed on me sitting on the kitchen floor.

"Hi," I whispered.

He frowned and said, "Hi."

"I-I think we need to talk," I said.

He threw his things carelessly onto the dinner table next to him and walked past me to the refrigerator and began to rummage around. "Talk about what?" he asked.

"What do you mean 'about what'?" I asked him. I stood up from the ground and turned around in time to see him take a big bite of his sandwich. "Obviously about us or this or whatever," I said.

"What's there to talk about?" he asked. "I paid good money for you. You're mine, and inside this house you'd rather we didn't speak much. I can live with that. I can't, however, live with you telling me you can cook, and then me coming home to no dinner on the table."

"If you had asked me to cook dinner for you and told me what time you'd be back, maybe it would've been there," I snapped. "And I don't care how much money you gave, don't talk about me as if I'm a possession."

He took another bite of his sandwich. "Isn't your job as my wife to know to have dinner on the table?"

I narrowed my eyes. "What is this, the 1950's? No! It is not my job to know to have dinner ready. Maybe if we talked, like I just suggested, then I'd know," I hissed.

"We're talking right now and you're being a bitch. All I did was ask a simple question," he said.

I gasped and felt my eyes sting with tears of anger. It took everything in me not to walk up to him and slap him silly. "I am not being a bitch. You're the one who walked in here like an arrogant prick and said I 'should know' to have dinner ready for you. God, if I knew you were going to be such an asshole, I wouldn't have come here!" I yelled.

"I'm suddenly starting to wish that you hadn't come, either!" he yelled back.

We stood there glaring at each other for what seemed like ages before I huffed in annoyance and rolled my eyes. "You know, for a twenty-two year old you're not very mature. All I did was ask to talk; you didn't have to bite my fucking head off," I said.

Edward rolled his eyes and took the last bite of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich before saying, "All _I_ did was ask a question. Apparently neither one of us can ask questions."

"And you seemed so shocked when I told you I hated you! Can you not see why I do?" I shrieked. "You're unnecessarily being an asshole. I guess this is the reason I'm here, huh? No woman in their right mind could give you the time of day," I hissed.

The beer bottle in Edward held fell out of his hands and he glared at me hard. "Don't forget whose house you're in, little girl," he hissed.

"Like I could forget with you standing there," I told him. "I'm right, aren't I? You're avoiding the question, which means I'm right. You couldn't stop being a jackass long enough to keep a woman, could you?" I smirked when the anger became more and more evident on his face. It was about time I wasn't the only one who couldn't keep their emotions under control. "Is your dad proud of the gentleman you didn't—"

"SHUT UP!" he roared, slamming his fist down hard on the island. My eyes widened, and I jumped in shock at the pure rage that was in his eyes and etched all over his face. "Shut the hell up you goddamned…" He didn't finish the sentence. Instead, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed heavily, trying to calm himself down.

I stepped forward, prepared to apologize, but the look he shot me when he re-opened his eyes stopped me in my tracks. My breathing hitched and I suddenly felt sick, knowing I was the reason he was so upset and obviously hurt. "Edward, I-I'm sorry," I whispered.

His eyes narrowed further, and I froze when he began to walk toward me. He stopped in front of me, our bodies only a foot or two apart, but I was too terrified to look up at him. Realizing I wasn't going to look up, he bent down until we were eye to eye, the fury even scarier up close. "I will _not _tolerate being disrespected in my own house, Isabella," he hissed fiercely. "You will respect me and do all the _wifely duties_," he spat, "you claimed to know how to do, but first you need to make up your goddamned mind before I make it up for you. Stay or go?" he asked. "See if I give a damn, either way."

And that was the million dollar question: _stay or go_.

Edward stared at me for a few more minutes before walking away with a grunt of disgust. I stayed where I was, not moving or breathing, until he was walking up the stairs.


	3. Chapter 3: Let Our Bygones be Bygones

A|N: Hey there, ladies, sorry for the delay! I don't have an update schedule yet but I should soon. Chapter four is with my betas and chapter five is nearly done, so the updates should be twice a week (or twice a day, maybe) whenever I get my schedule down.

* * *

><p>Chapter 3: Let Our Bygones be Bygones<p>

_Charlie shook his head and narrowed his eyes at me. "If you don't do it, Isabella, you're going to have to get out."_

_I stared at him in shock; surely I misunderstood what I'd heard. "Dad, you – you can't be serious! You'd kick me out because I don't want to go live with some random stranger? What the **fuck** is your problem?" I yelled, shocking the both of us when I dropped the f-bomb._

"_You will not speak to me that way!" he yelled back. "I'll do whatever I have to do, Bella, to keep Renee and me comfortable."_

"_But…" I trailed off at his raised hand._

_Dad shook his head and heaved a sigh. "I wish there was some other way, Bella," he said. "If it makes you feel any better, we don't have an answer yet. He could say no and then you'll be able to stay."_

_He turned on his heel and walked into the kitchen, while I turned on mine and walked up the stairs, stifling the sobs that tried to break free._

_Whether I get to stay home or not, depends on some guy and whether he finds me hot or not._

_**~MOB~**_

* * *

><p>The next morning, I woke up and decided I would make an actual effort to get along with Edward. I had decided that I would stay, if only because I knew my parents really needed the money. I showered, threw on a pair of jean shorts and a red tank top, and headed downstairs, where Cynthia was cooking breakfast again.<p>

"Morning, doll," she said cheerfully. "How would you like some waffles and eggs?"

I grinned at her and sat down at the island. "I'd love some. Where's Edward?" I asked, looking around for him. "Is he at work again?"

Cynthia handed me a plate of food and set a bottle of syrup in front of me before sitting at the island with her own plate of food. "No, he's out on his morning run. I'll have to give you both of our work schedules so you know what's up," she said.

I nodded. "Speaking of work schedules, when do you get off today?"

She screwed up her face in concentration before looking at me with a smile and said, "Today is Wednesday, right? Edward usually chooses to take his days off on Wednesdays, so I won't be leaving until around eight-thirtyish, after I make dinner."

"Thanks for telling me. The first duty I am going to do as Edward's wife is let you off early," I told her. Cynthia took a bite of her waffle and raised an eyebrow at me. I took that as a sign for me to continue. "Edward and I had a… conversation yesterday, and I was faced with an ultimatum. I've made my decision, and I'm going to make dinner for Edward to tell what it is."

Cynthia chuckled. "So, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say this 'conversation' was really a fight, and that fight made up your mind to stay. I'm glad," she said.

I blushed. "Uh-huh, that's exactly it. I was going to make lasagna…" I trailed off when the front door could be heard slamming shut.

"That's Edward's favorite." Cynthia winked at me as she gave me this information. "I have some errands to run, so I better…"

She stopped talking when Edward's footsteps faltered behind me. Her eyes widened, and then her lips pulled into a smirk. The minute Edward walked into my view, I knew why. He was wearing a pair of black basketball shorts with no shirt. His skin was shining because of the dripping sweat, and every time he lifted his arms up to get something in the higher cabinets, his muscles in his back moved in ways that I found myself liking way too much.

He turned around, and my breath caught in my throat. I looked over to my left and blushed madly at being caught staring. "Hello, Edward, did you have a nice run?"

"Mmmhmm," he mumbled.

I peeked back over at him and saw him chugging down a bottle of water. I watched with an intense interest as his Adam's apple moved up and down as he swallowed, and I bit my lip to keep a groan from escaping as I watched the sweat run down his neck and onto his chest…

"How does that sound, Bella?" Cynthia asked, bringing me out of my lustful haze.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I asked her, rolling my eyes and blushing at the grin she was giving me.

Cynthia laughed and repeated, "I said, since you're letting me get off early today, I'll go get my errands done now, and take off when I get back?"

"Again, she gave you the day off?" Edward questioned.

I nodded my head. "Yeah, Cynthia, that sounds good. You don't mind picking up a few things from the store for me, do you?"

"Nope, let me go get my purse and my shoes, and when I come back, I'll jot down what you want."

Cynthia walked out of the kitchen, and I began writing down the things I wanted her to get from the store, aware of Edward's eyes on me. "You gave Cynthia the day off?" Edward asked me, resting his elbows on the counter.

I looked up from the piece of paper I was writing on and nodded. "Yeah, I did. I figured I'd make you dinner and then we could talk, without fighting this time, and set some things straight."

"So, you're staying?" He looked at me with a raised eyebrow, clearly surprised. Another emotion lingered on his face for awhile before it was replaced with a cool nonchalance. He nodded his head and stood up straight. "That's cool. What are you making for dinner?"

"I was thinking, for our first meal together" – I couldn't help but chuckle at that – "that I'd make something simple – lasagna."

"Why are you making lasagna?" he asked with a hard edge to his voice.

I frowned and said, "Um, because it's my favorite and I noticed we had most of the ingredients for it. Unless, of course, you want me to make something else, then…"

"That's fine, I was just curious," he cut me off. "I'm going to take a shower, and then my brother is coming over. What you do with yourself during that time I don't really care, just don't break any of my shit or steal it."

"Where exactly would I put your 'shit' if I stole it? Inside my room? That would be about as dumb as a murderer thinking he could get away with it, even though he left the bloody knife with his fingerprints on it right next to the body." I laughed at the annoyed look on his face. "Calm down, Edward, I won't steal a thing, I promise. I'll try not to break them either."

I made the "scouts honor" sign with my hand but I didn't know the girl scouts used a different sign than the boys, but I'd never made it past being a brownie. "I've got half a brain to know better than to think you were actually in the Girl Scouts," he said.

I shrugged. "And I've got half a brain to know when I've been caught."

"It also helps that you're holding up the Boy Scouts sign," he called to me after he walked out of the kitchen.

I, of course, blushed, and flipped him off, wishing like hell he could see it. "Hey, Edward!" I poked my head out of the kitchen just as he was about to go down the hall leading to the stairs. He raised an eyebrow at me in question. "I'm sorry. About what I…"

"Let's let our bygones be bygones, Bella," he said before disappearing down the hall.

I frowned in surprise and walked back to the island. I finished my shopping list just as Cynthia came back into the room.

"Strawberry ice cream, Simply Raspberry Lemonade, Tampax Pearl, , two cans of Pringles, regular chewy Lifesavors, Fruit Loops and Apple Jacks, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, two percent milk, shaving cream, and a big box of Rice Krispy treats (preferably the 40 pack)," Cynthia read my entire list. She raised an eyebrow at me. "Would like a side of vegetables with your diabetes?"

I laughed. "I mean, if you think I need some. Oh, wait, I actually do need a side of vegetables. I usually don't eat anything with my lasagna unless it is Texas toast, but I don't know if Edward…"

"Really good seasoned broccoli," Cynthia said.

"Sounds good to me," I said with a shrug. I hand her forty bucks that I had in my pocket so she could get my things. "Thank you, by the way."

Cynthia nodded, took the money, and gave me a smile before leaving the kitchen. I paced the room for about ten minutes before I raced out and up the stairs. I stopped outside the room at the very end of the hall and threw the door open and yelled, "Edward, I'm – holy shit!"

I threw my hand over my eyes and squeezed them tightly for good measure before turning to leave. "Ow," I moaned out in pain after I crashed into the wall. "Oh, my fuck!" I cupped my foot in my hands and began massaging it. I hopped around on one foot until I bumped into Edward and found myself on the ground again.

"If you opened your eyes, you wouldn't be going through all this trouble," Edward said, not even trying to conceal the laughter in his voice.

I opened my eyes and stared in horror as I saw that he was still naked, but I couldn't bring myself to close them back or look away. I felt my face heat up when I finally looked up at Edward's face.

"If you wanted to see me naked, you could have at least bought me dinner first. And you could've gotten me drunk; I don't just get naked for any ol' body and for no reason at all," he scolded me, sounding way more serious than his smirk made him appear.

I bit my bottom lip to keep from humoring him by giving a sarcastic remark or laughing. I shouldn't find people I am supposed to hate funny.

"I'm sorry I… interrupted," I said apologetically.

"Interrupted what, exactly?" Edward asked me with an eyebrow raised in amusement.

I rolled my eyes. "You know, what you were doing."

"What do you think I was doing, Bella?" he asked me, barely able to hide his chuckle.

I huffed in annoyance. "I thought you were doing what all young men do when they're naked and alone."

Edward snorted and asked, "Jacking off?"

"No, pretending to be a ballerina in their mirror," I deadpanned.

He stared at me for a moment before surprising me by throwing his head back and laughing loudly. I couldn't help but laugh right along with him.

"Was there something specific you wanted that caused you to barge into my room like that?" he asked me after we both calmed down and he got dressed.

I turned around from his massive CD collection to look at him and nodded. "I did, actually. I came to apologize," I told him.

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. "I thought I already said…"

"I can't just let our bygones be bygones with your bygone thinking mine hates him. Or her, whichever you prefer," I said, cutting him off. "I didn't mean all of what I said. I mean, I don't like you, but I don't hate you. Hate is a very strong word, and I can't hate someone I don't know. It's not in my nature."

Edward stared at me for a moment, as if I'd grown three heads or five, before nodding. He frowned slightly, rubbed the back of his neck and said, "Um, okay. I… forgive you? And I'm sorry, too, I guess. I was kind of an asshole."

"Kind of?" I questioned with a raised eyebrow and a snort. "I guess that's all I'm going to get, so I won't complain. Thank you for that, Edward. That was all I wanted; to apologize and see you naked." His eyes widened in surprise and I laughed. "I'm sorry, I had to do it."

He smirked back at me and nodded. "It's cool. Um, my best friend and my brother are coming over soon, and I just got a call from work. They need me to come in for something, so I should be gone for an hour or two. Do you mind…?"

"That's why I'm here, right?" I cut him off. "Your best friend and your brother will be taken care of, I promise. You go hold it down at work, and I'll hold it down here."

"All right," he said, and we walked out of his room and back down the stairs.

"Are they allergic to anything? I saw a lot of fruit in your refrigerator, so I figured I'd make a big fruit salad and maybe some sandwiches," I said.

He paused with his hand on the doorknob leading to the garage, and I looked at him. He shrugged. "Emmett eats anything, but Rosalie hates mangos. If you're going to make sandwiches, Emmett hates tomatoes but loves extra pickles, while Rosalie hates both of those and prefers extra cheese," he told me.

I nodded. "All right, thanks. Have a good day at work," I said.

"'Bye," he said and left.

I stood there and listened to the garage door open and then close and realized I hadn't asked him how long I had until they got here.

_Shit._ I didn't ask him how much Emmett knew of our situation, either.

_**~MOB~**_

The doorbell rang an hour later, and I froze with the knife still inside the orange. I made us each two sandwiches, they were in the refrigerator. Then, as I tried to get all of the fruit out of the fridge, I watched, shocked, as everything inside came falling down.

Drinks spilled, beer bottles broke, and leftover food splattered on everything in the kitchen including me. It took me an hour to clean up and by the time the doorbell rang, I only had a few strawberries cut up and ready to be served.

"Edward, man, open the fucking door!" a loud, deep voice boomed, banging on the door.

It made me jump, and I let out a small yelp when the knife sliced into my pointer finger. I rushed over to the sink to rinse it off and yelled, "Hold on, please! I'm coming."

"She's here already? Why didn't you tell me that?" the same voice, who I assumed to be Emmett, hissed.

I looked out the peephole and saw a massive guy with even bigger muscles towering over the beautiful blonde I came to know as Ms. Hale.

"I figured Edward told you," she said smoothly.

I opened the door, cutting off whatever Emmett was going to say. He looked down at me and his eyes widened in surprise, but then he chuckled when he looked at the rest of me.

"Don't know your way around the kitchen?" he asked.

I glared. "I do, thank you very much," I snapped. "I'm just clumsy sometimes, forgive me."

He chuckled. "You're a feisty one, eh? I like that. May we come in?"

I nodded quickly and moved out of the way. "I'm sorry, of course. This is practically your house, too," I said. "I don't think I could stop you from coming in even if I wanted to."

He laughed and walked past me and headed straight for the kitchen, leaving me and Ms. Hale by ourselves. "Isabella, it's so nice to officially meet you. I'm Rosalie," she said, offering her hand.

I took it and smiled shyly. "Um, you too, Ms. Hale, but please, call me Bella. Isabella is much too formal for me," I said.

"Then you have to call me Rosalie," she countered.

"I can handle that."

We walked back to kitchen, and I was proud of myself for somehow managing to not answer her questions about my stay, though she was relentless and I knew she'd get her answers eventually. When we actually walked into the kitchen, we saw Emmett standing over the trashcan, both of his hands covering his mouth in shock.

"What – what happened to all the food?" he choked out, literally sounding on the verge of tears.

I looked over at Rosalie, and she rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Emmett, are you about to start crying over food?"

I giggled when he nodded. "I'm sorry, Emmett. I told you I was clumsy. I was just trying to get the fruit out, and I tripped and grabbed onto the top shelf and then everything came crashing down. I guess I'm heavier than I realized," I said with a frown.

"Anyone would have broken it, Bella," Rosalie said.

I shrugged off her comment, walked over to the refrigerator, and pulled out our sandwiches. "Luckily, we were having sandwiches for lunch anyways. Edward told me what you all like, so I hope I did them justice," I said and handed them over.

"Awesome," Emmett said with a firm nod and thumbs up. "I don't think I could make it any better."

"You probably couldn't make it all," Rosalie quipped, throwing a balled-up napkin at him. "What, with you not being able to cook and all."

He rolled his eyes and declared, "I can cook!"

"TV dinners don't count as cooking," I quipped.

Emmett frowned and stuck his tongue out at me while Rosalie laughed and high-fived me. "You have any pickles?" she asked.

"We have some, but I didn't give you any because Edward said you hated them," I told her.

Rosalie rolled her eyes and jumped down from on top of the counter and went through the refrigerator until she found them. "I told Edward I hate them on my hamburgers and sandwiches, but I like them as a food," she explained.

I nodded. "I get that. I'm the same way."

"So, you are Bella, right?" Emmett asked me.

"Yes."

"So, you're Edward's wife then?"

"I am," I answered, narrowing my eyes suspiciously at him, and tried to figure out where he was going with this.

"What is it you do for a living, Bella?"

"Leave her alone, Emmett!" Rosalie snapped, hitting him on the back of his head. She faced me with a smile. "Don't worry about him, Bella. He's just being a pain in the ass; Emmett knows about you and Edward."

"He knows about Edward and me?" I asked.

Emmett nodded. "I know all about y'all and what he did to get you here. Honestly, I didn't think someone would actually call. Hell, I didn't think he'd actually pick someone. You're so young, too," he said.

"I'll be nineteen in a month," I told him. "I'm not that young."

"Compared to us you are. Well, Alice will be happy to not be the only young one now," he told Rosalie.

"Who's Alice?"

"Alice is mine and Edward's younger sister: she turned nineteen back in July," Emmett explained. "Do you know the story?"

I shook my head. "What story?"

"Of how you and Edward met," he clarified. "This was all in the package he sent on himself. You didn't feel like reading it?"

"More like my dad didn't feel the need to share the information with me," I replied. "I never actually thought of that. I guess I should know that if I were to be asked, huh?"

"Exactly," Rosalie said as she took a bite of her pickle. "You're a dancer, correct?" I nodded. "Great. So, the story is that you and Edward met back in April when you went to Las Vegas with your team for a competition. The two of you fell madly in love, but your father didn't approve of him because of his age. You guys had to be sneaky, and when you met back up in June in California for another dance competition, you decided to get married. Your mother, Renee, wanted you to do what made you happy and gave you all her blessing to go and get married. You left to Las Vegas with him that night. Your dad tried to convince you to divorce him for weeks before finally kicking you out, not that that mattered since you were planning on living with Edward anyway."

I placed the last of the fruit in the big salad bowl and made my own bowl before I sat down at the counter. "Wow," I said after swallowing a piece of strawberry. "Edward really thought that through, didn't he? Those are actual months I went to dance competitions."

"Well, he had to be thorough. And, if anyone were to get suspicious, we're also saying that Edward bought a hefty amount of China from your mother, since, you know, that's what she sells for a living," Emmett said.

"Do you mean 'suspicious' as in if people were to start questioning all the money that was deposited into Dad's account?" I asked them.

"Spot on," Rosalie said. "So, hey, where is everybody?"

"Um…" I trailed off for a minute when the garage door could be heard opening. "That's either Edward or Cynthia. Edward had to go into work for about an hour or two, and Cynthia ran some errands and went to the store for me."

Cynthia and Edward walked in together, much to my surprise. They were both carrying bags, and I got up to help put the things away.

"I've got it, honey. You get your things, though, and see if I picked the right items," Cynthia said and handed me two bags. She walked toward the fridge, and I winced when she gasped. "What in the heck happened to all the food?"

"It's in the trashcan." Edward's eyes immediately fell on me. "Why is all my food in the garbage?"

"It was an accident!" I defended myself, blushing slightly. "I tripped and grabbed onto the top shelf, and everything went crashing down. I'll replace everything, though, so don't worry."

"You can't replace my beer," he grumbled as he tied up the bag. He walked out of the kitchen door that led to the backyard, slamming the door.

"He's mad at me," I said.

"Edward's mad at everyone," Cynthia said. "Emmett, you should go make sure he doesn't break something – like his hand."

Emmett nodded and left and Rosalie stood and put her things in the sink. "I'm going to the basement," she said.

"What's in the basement?" I asked Cynthia. Emmett and Edward came back in then, sans a broken hand, and they went to the basement, too.

"Um, entertainment room, dance room, and a small workout area for them," she answered after they were gone. "You're free to go down there, you know."

I nodded. "Thanks, but I don't think Edward wants me there. I'm going to get started on dinner now. It'll take a while to get finished since the meat is still frozen and all," I said. "Are you going home?"

"That I am," she said. "Thanks for giving me the rest of the day off, Bella."

I shrugged. "You're welcome. We're adults and I figure we can do some things ourselves, right?"

"Sure, but I like working for Edward. He's been with me since he was born," she said. "All right, I'm gone."

"'Bye."

I looked at the clock and saw that it was two. It would take me about two hours to get everything ready for dinner and another forty-five minutes for it to bake.

_**~MOB~**_

"You actually fucking did it," Emmett muttered.

I stopped walking just before I could be seen in the door and pressed my back up against the wall. Dinner was put in the oven, and the three of them were still down in the basement.

"Took you longer than I thought it would for you to say something," was Edward's response.

"She's eighteen."

"Legal," Edward defended himself.

"She's a good girl, Edward."

"What exactly are you trying to say here, Emmett?"

"I'm saying don't fuck her over. Rosalie likes her and so do I. And, if you fuck this up, we're not going to help you do this again. It's fucking ridiculous, Edward. If you'd man the fuck up, you wouldn't _have_ to find a wife this way," Emmett declared.

"I've no comment for that," Edward said.

Emmett snorted quietly. "Of course you don't. Are you going to fuck her?" he asked crudely.

"Christ, Emm, are you seriously asking me that?" Edward asked in disbelief. "No. I'm not going to have sex with her. I've already told her that."

"What was her dad's reason?"

"All he said was that he was desperate. Get this, Emm: he's the chief of police."

"No shit?" Emmett said, sounding surprised.

"None what so ever," Edward answered.

"It's always the ones that are supposed to be fighting for the law that you have to look after," Emmett said.

"I could have sworn I told y'all to shut up. You're messing up my concentration," Rosalie snapped.

"If you need to concentrate to stand on your tippy-toes, then you weren't meant to be a ballerina," Edward said.

I moved into the doorway, just in time to see Rosalie throw her red heel at him. I let out a mock sigh of disappointment when he caught it. "You do ballet?" I asked Rosalie when all eyes turned to me.

She rolled her eyes and snorted. "No way; I'm a gymnast, but my former coach told me I should take some ballet classes to get more balance, and it sort of stuck," she explained.

I nodded in understanding. "I used to be a hardcore gymnast, but then my coach suggested the same thing and I became a hardcore ballerina," I said with a chuckle. "But gymnastics will always be my first love."

"Not another one!" Emmett and Edward groaned together.

I looked at them in surprise. "Not another what?" I asked them.

"A dancer! Another fucking dancer," Emmett said. "You remember our sister, Alice, that I was telling you about?" I nodded. "Well, she's a dancer, too. Some hip-hop-ballet type thing, or whatever, and when these two" – he pointed to Rosalie – "Rosalie and Alice, get together, all they do is talk about dance and gymnastics and try to do all these flips and shit in a room that they know is too small."

I laughed and Rosalie rolled her eyes. "We're not that bad. He's over exaggerating by, like, a lot. We talk about it, but not every time we're in the room together," she said.

"I believe you," I told her seriously. I tilted my head to the left slightly, noted her black spandex shorts and the white sports bra she changed in to, and smiled when I saw her ballet flats. "What were you working on?"

"Her purealays," Emmett answered me.

I burst into a fit of giggles. "She was working on her what?" I asked him just because I wanted to hear it again.

Emmett frowned at me. "Her purealays," he repeated. Rosalie joined me in my giggle fit when it happened again, and Emmett rolled his eyes and looked thoroughly annoyed. "What the hell is so funny?"

"They're called pirouettes," Rosalie explained.

"Then she was working on her pirouettes," Emmett said proudly.

"No."

"Then what the _fuck_ were you working on?" Edward snapped.

"My _fouettes_," Rosalie said, chuckling softly at their bemused expressions.

"I get it; pirouettes are the leaping in the air and splitting things," Emmett said with a head nod.

I snickered. "You say they talk about it so much, yet you don't know anything. Those are _jetes_," I told him.

"How about you two show us the differences?" Edward suggested.

I looked at him in surprise before shaking my head. "I can't. I only came to say that dinner would be ready in forty-five minutes, and I still need to take a shower…"

"It won't take you long if you're as good as you say," he quipped.

I glared. "Excuse me?"

"These two here think ballet is so easy," Rosalie told me. "We should show them that it is not."

I nodded. "Fine, fine, you don't have to twist my arm," I said.

"I call the moves and you do them." Rosalie shrugged.

"Okay," I said.

"Grand pirouette."

"_Fouette_."

"Stag jump."

"Illusion turn."

"_Grand jete_."

"And to finish it off," Rosalie said, "I'd like for you to do an _arabesque_ and then a _pointe_."

"It took me forever to perfect this," I groaned. "I had a Russian ballet teacher, and I do believe they are the strictest and the meanest with their freaking yard sticks."

I turned on my side and took a deep breath before turning my right foot out slightly, and then arched my back as my left leg went up behind me, making sure my foot was pointed nicely, before spreading my arms: one in the front and one going toward the back.

"How long can you hold that for?" Rosalie asked me softly.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering with, "I don't know. I never actually timed it before, but I'd like to think I can hold it for as long as I want as long as I concentrate on it."

"That's easy!" Emmett yelled. "I could do that in my sleep. You girls just make it seem so much harder."

"Then let us see you do it," Rosalie challenged. "If you can, we'll drop it."

"And if I can't?" he asked.

"You have to take a lesson from us," she told him, waving her finger between the two of us.

I put my leg down and moved over to stand by Rosalie, and Emmett stood up from the chair he'd been sitting in and stood in front of us.

"Are you ready for this awesomeness?" he asked us, a smug smile on his face.

Rosalie stepped back, pulling me with her, and said, "Oh, yes. We're ready for you to prove us wrong, Emm."

Emmett spread his arms wide, one in the front and one in the back, and arched his back before throwing his leg up behind him.

There was a deathly silence for a minute in the room before Rosalie and I suddenly erupted into a roaring laughter. "I can't breathe!" Rosalie wheezed out between laughter. "Oh, God, that was so bad."

Emmett's amazing _arabesque_ wasn't so amazing. His foot turned the wrong way, and he could only get his leg up high enough for his foot to touch his butt, his knee bent.

"That is the worst," I said, grinning at him. "But you get an A for effort, Emm. That was good for a non-flexible beginner."

"Boom! In your face, bizotch!" he yelled, fist pumping me and sticking his tongue out at Rosalie.

She rolled her eyes and said something to him, but I tuned them out and walked over to Edward, who was still sitting in his chair, an amused smile on his face.

"What's up?" he asked me when I sat down.

I shrugged and smiled at him. "Nothing much, Edward; I just came down here to tell you that dinner would be ready. In thirty-five minutes from now," I said.

He nodded his head. "Lasagna?" he asked as he turned his head to look at me.

"Lasagna is correct. I have to go take a shower, because I smell like beer and every other food that spilled in your fridge, and then I'll meet you in the dining room?"

"We can do that," he answered softly.

I nodded and stood up. "Are they staying?" I pointed to Rosalie and Emmett who were arguing playfully.

"Nope; they'll probably be gone by the time you're out of the shower," Edward told me.

"Okay," I said before getting up and leaving.

_**~MOB~**_

When I got out of the shower, I still had twenty minutes left until dinner was ready, so I curled my hair. I stepped into a dark blue dress that stopped just a few inches above my knees with a black belt going around the waist and slipped into the only pair of heels that I had. They were high, and had I not been a gymnast and a dancer, I don't think I would have been able to walk in them.

I put on some waterproof mascara and some liquid eyeliner before stepping back and looking at myself in the full-length mirror. I smiled at my reflection and did a little twirl, proud of myself. I figured I might as well treat this dinner as a special occasion, because it kind of was, so I dressed up nicely and decided to be on my best behavior and see if Edward and I could really make this work.

I walked down the stairs and emerged from the hallway just as Rosalie and Emmett had gotten to the front door. Their heads turned together at the sound of my heels, and I smiled and walked faster toward them.

"Wow," Rosalie said. "You look gorgeous."

I blushed and said, "Thank you. I thought I did a pretty good job, too."

"Is there something more going on than just dinner?" Emmett asked. "You're all dressed up and fancy looking for just dinner."

"Yes, it is just dinner, but an important one, so I figured I'd make the best of it," I said with a shrug.

"Well, you look gorgeous, and I have faith that this dinner will go well," Rosalie said reassuringly. She stared me for a minute before rolling her eyes and bringing me into a hug. "Good luck," she whispered in my ear.

We broke apart and I grinned. "Don't worry. This is going to be legend-wait for it-dary!" I said.

There was a beat of silence before Rosalie groaned and Emmett threw his head back and laughed loudly. "Oh, Bella, please not you, too!" Rosalie said.

"I used to say I needed a Ted or Marshall to my Barney, but another Barney is so much better!" Emmett said excitingly.

I grinned widely at Emmett. "Are you serious right now, Emmett? You're a _How I Met Your Mother fan_, too? Oh, my God, this is great! Back home no one understood why I loved that show so much," I said with just as much enthusiasm as him.

He nodded his head vigorously. "I know! No one here gets it, either! That show is a Godsend. I love it. I'm a huge fan," he told me.

"Do you know what this means?" I asked him seriously.

A slow, lazy smile took over his face as he nodded his head. "I'm seeing where you're going with this, Bella, but I'd like for you to say it out loud anyway."

"We're going to have to have a _How I Met Your Mother_ marathon, Swarley. I have all the seasons on DVD," I informed him.

"Oh, no way will I be Swarley!" Emmett yelled, offended. "Why do I get the Godawful nickname?"

"Because it was funny and you're funny," I said. "You two were always meant to be."

Emmett rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said. "I'll be the bigger person here…"

"You already are whether you choose to be or not," I said.

"'And be Swarley, but you can't get mad at me when I try to convince people about your crazy eyes'," he said, completely ignoring my comment.

I stuck my hand out and he shook it. "Deal," we said in unison.

Rosalie groaned. "You two seriously just had a whole conversation about a show that you both obviously watch too often," she said with a shake of her head.

"I bet you that by the end of season two, Rose will be hooked," Emmett said to me.

I snorted and shook my head. "No way; she'll be hooked sometime in season one," I said.

"I won't get hooked at all!" Rosalie declared.

"Do I feel a slap bet coming on?" Emmett asked me.

I grinned. "Same rules as the episode?" I asked him and he nodded. "Prepare to be slapped silly, Emmett. Now, you two should go so I can get mine and Edward's dinner set up."

They nodded and said their goodbyes for the final time before leaving. I closed the door behind them, laughing at Rosalie's insistence that she will not become hooked onto the show, before rushing back to the kitchen to check on the food.

"Just in time," I said to myself as I pulled the lasagna out of the oven. It looked perfect, and I was pretty sure it tasted just as good. Lasagna was my specialty.

After searching, and searching, and climbing on top of a counter for the cabinets I couldn't reach, I found the plates. I put a hefty amount on both on both of them with a helping of broccoli and rushed out to the dining room.

I froze mid-step and stared at the table in surprise. I mean, the table wasn't set up anything too special, but I was surprised that Edward had made the effort. Two placemats were on the table, a wine glass beside them, and a wine bottle sat in between two candles.

Edward stood behind the chair that sat at the head of the table. He was wearing a white button down shirt and dress pants, so I figured he had the same idea as me. He shrugged when he saw me looking at him. "Rosalie told me you'd appreciate the candles and a more… intimate atmosphere," he said.

"I do," I assured him. "Thank you." He sat down in his chair, and I placed our food on the placemats and sat on the right side of him. "We're drinking wine?"

"We are," he confirmed. "But I am only allowing you to drink it this once, seeing as how you are underage and all."

"Sweet!" I cheered, blushing when Edward rolled his eyes at me. "I mean, uh, that's wonderful. I get it."

"Do you blush at every single thing?" he asked me, irritation coloring his voice.

I rolled my eyes and frowned. "I do. I get it from my mother. Why? Is that a problem? Do you have a 'no blushing' rule or something?"

"What all did you want to talk about tonight?" he asked, ignoring my question.

"Is there even a point in me talking, seeing as how you're probably going to ignore everything I say anyway?"

"I don't ignore what you say, I store it away for later use. Now, can we get back to my question?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "I don't know. Do you have any house rules? Is there something more we're going to tell your parents and friends besides the story you came up with?" I asked him. "Can I have a reason as to why you did this in the first place?"

I took a bite of my lasagna and watched with rapt attention as he stuck the fork through his. This was test number one. The most important of all: the "can my newly bought wife cook" test. His face showed nothing as he chewed and then swallowed, but after he licked his lips, he grinned at me.

"This is honestly the best lasagna I've ever had," he said.

I beamed. "I'm glad to hear it! Lasagna is my favorite, and I've spent forever trying to get it just right," I told him.

"I can tell." He nodded his head and took another bite before sitting back in his chair. "I don't have any house rules besides the ones I told you earlier, I don't think. Um, don't break my shit, don't steal it. Ah. Don't throw wild parties in my house," he said, giving me a pointed look.

"Not all eighteen-year-olds try to throw parties when their parents are away," I told him flippantly. "Luckily, I don't live with them." I smirked. "No, I can abide by those. I'm not much of a partier, so you don't have to worry about that. I'm also not a thief. About the 'no breaking shit' rule, I'll try to follow that, but I can be clumsy. Shit tends to get broken when you're clumsy."

"We'll deal with it then," he said. "There's no other story to tell. I think the one we have is enough. You should be able to answer any other questions people ask you." He took another bite of his food and poured himself some wine. I gave him my glass, and he filled it for me. "As for my reasons, I just wanted my mother off my ass. She's forever complaining about my random hookups with 'poor girls with serious insecurities,' and my forever being dateless at important parties and events that we have. I don't plan on settling down, Bella, I'm not the commitment type, so I figured this would be the easiest way."

"Huh," I said. "What's so hard about settling down?"

"I'd rather not get into that right now," he snapped before taking a drink of his wine. "Is that all you wanted to talk about, or was there something else that you felt we should discuss?"

"You mentioned parties and being dateless. Will I be attending those with you as your wife?" I asked, though I already knew the answer. I rolled my eyes at myself in annoyance.

"You will," he said, humoring me.

I nodded. "So, um, Rosalie and Emmett told me what the story was today. Emmett also said you two have a sister. I figured that if your brother knows then she must know, am I right?"

Edward shook his head. "No, only my brother and Rosalie know. Rosalie knows because I asked her for help, and Emmett knows because he's the one who suggested it, so when I told Rosalie I really wanted to do it, I figured I had to tell him."

"He suggested you buy a woman?" I asked.

"He was joking, but he said it nonetheless."

I nodded. "Um, I honestly thought I would have more questions to ask, or more things to say, when I thought about this earlier," I told him.

Edward chuckled. "I thought you were going to have more to say, too. Well, you don't have to ask me everything tonight, so if you have anything more to say, you can come to me at any time," he said, sounding more sincere and kind than I thought possible for him. "You look surprised by what I said. I'm not always an asshole, despite the way I've been acting these past two days and whatever Cynthia told you."

I laughed and said, "Cynthia said you were a good guy, but you weren't nice to just anybody and that if I were to be a bitch to you would kick me out or something close to that."

"I wouldn't kick you out." He shook his head. "I don't think I'm that much of an asshole, but I can say that this wouldn't have been a happy home if you decided to take the bitch route."

I snickered. "The bitch route, I like that," I admitted. "That's nice to know, that you're not much of an asshole I mean, not that this wouldn't have been a happy home if I…"

"I get what you mean," he cut me off with a laugh. "This was amazing. Seriously, this was the best lasagna I've ever had, and if you tell Cynthia I told you that, I will hurt you."

I grinned. "My lips are sealed, I promise." I picked up my wine glass and smiled shyly at him. "I'd like to make a toast."

Edward grinned at me and picked up his glass as well and asked, "And what are we toasting to?"

"To letting our bygones be what they were always meant to be," I said simply.

He smiled softly and tapped his glass to mine, a clink sound filling the silence. "Let our bygones be bygones," he said.

I grinned at him and took of a sip of my wine at the same time as he.

"Wow, this is really good! What is it?"

Edward looked at me, obviously very amused, snorted loudly and announced, "I'm going to bed."

I frowned. "What was that reaction for? It _is_ good! And I want to know what it is so I can ask for it again in the future."

"I'll tell you what it is when you're twenty-one," he said, grabbing the wine and looking at me pointedly. "I know how many bottles of wine I have and how much is in this one. Don't go trying to sneak it, all right?"

I rolled my eyes and said, "As if I would ever do that."

"Goodnight, Bella," he said and began walking away.

"Wait!" He stopped and looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "We didn't talk about money. Also, do I have the right to say, 'this is mine,' when talking about something in the house?"

Edward shrugged and began to walk away. "What's mine is yours."


	4. Chapter 4: First Sight

******A|N:** I guess my update days will be Monday :). Here it is, y'all, chapter four!

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN TWILIGHT OR THE SERIES!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 4: First Sight<p>

_*Three Days Later*_

"_Isabella! Get down here," Charlie yelled._

_I sighed in annoyance and hopped out of my bed and rushed down the stairs. Charlie was standing at the foot of the stairs when I made it down and turned on his heel wordlessly and walked toward the kitchen. I knew by the grim expression that he wore that something major had happened._

_I followed behind him slowly, my arms crossed over my chest, dreading the worst. I knew what this was about. I could tell the minute I sat down across from Dad and saw the smirk on his face. It was his "I just won something big!" smirk._

"_I always told you that you were something special, Bella," he said, grinning full-on now. "She said it would take him a week, but he responded in three days and he said yes!" _

_I grimace. "He wants me?"_

_Charlie nodded his head enthusiastically. "Bella, yes, yes, he wants you! He had five other girls to pick and he chose you! Twenty thousand dollars, Bella, twenty fucking thousand!" he cheered._

"_Dad, what all do you know about this man?" I asked._

_He shrugged. "I don't know much about him, Bella, just enough to know he's paying me good money and that you should be taken care of," he told me._

"_I 'should' be taken care of?" I asked with a snort of disbelief. "How can you sit there and say that with that stupid, smug smile on your face? I've been with you for eighteen years, dad! How can you just give me up like that?"_

"_Bella, do you love us?" he asked me seriously. "Do you love your mother and me?"_

_I glared at him and said, "Yes! Of course I love the two of you. You two are my parents and without you two I would be lost."_

"_Then you realize why you have to do this," he replied._

"_No, I don't realize why I have to do this!" I yelled. "Care to explain?"_

"_If we don't get that money, Bella," he paused for obvious dramatic effect. I rolled my eyes. "Then your mother and I will lose the house and then we'll be homeless. Are you prepared to live with that guilt?"_

_**~MOB~**_

* * *

><p>"So, how the hell are you a lawyer at twenty-two?"<p>

I jumped onto the counter and crossed my right leg over my left and watched Edward with a raised eyebrow. After dinner the night before Edward went out and I went to bed. We were currently in the kitchen: he was making his coffee and I was just sitting around doing nothing.

Edward laughed and replied, "I was just a really smart kid. I graduated high school early and went to college; skipped a few grades."

"I'd do the math for that but I don't feel like it," I said. "That's cool, though, you being all smart and all."

"I was in high school when I was seven. I went to Seattle University when I was eleven, and I graduated from Seattle School of Law in January. I've been working at my dad's law firm for seven months now," he explained. "I'll be twenty-three this upcoming January."

"Um, wow, you freakin' boy genius," I said in disbelief. "You're incredible."

He shrugged. "Not really. I just liked school and always achieved to be ahead of everybody. My dad believed in perfection, so I gave it to him," Edward said.

"Wow," I said again. "What's that?"

My eyes zeroed in on the ring he was slipping onto his ring finger on his left hand and then on the diamond ring that he pulled out of his pocket. He grabbed my left hand and put it on my ring finger. "These," he began, "are our wedding rings. I'm pretty important around Seattle, Bella, and in order for this to work everyone is going to have to know."

I nodded. "Okay," I said. I frowned. "Why are you _so_ important, Edward?"

"Fuck me if I know," he said with a shrug. "I'm a really young lawyer and my dad is a pretty well-known lawyer and he's helped a lot of people-celebrities, first class rich people and the like-win their cases and now the same is expected of me. People love to see you fall, Bella, so I get followed around. They're all waiting for me to screw up fall flat on my ass."

"That's a lot of pressure to put on a twenty-two year old man. How the hell do you deal with it?" I asked him.

"I told you my dad always wanted perfection, so I gave it to him – all the things he told me and all the things I did to give him that perfection helps me now. Negativity isn't my friend, Bella, and neither is failure. I will not be falling on my ass anytime soon – pressured or not."

"Well, with that kind of attitude…"

"Do you think I'm too cocky?" he asked me in amusement.

I shrugged. "A little but I guess a lot of confidence is good and if you're good at your job why not flaunt it, yeah?"

"Exactly," he said, nodding at me appreciatively. "My mother absolutely hates my attitude when I'm in my "work only" mode."

"I think we need to talk more about this 'what's mine is yours' business," I said, recalling his last words to me last night before he went to bed.

Edward raised an eyebrow at me in surprise and confusion and said, "What more is there to talk about? Do you not understand the meaning of those words?"

I glared at him. "Are being serious about the question or are you just trying to be an asshole?"

"Um, possibly both?" he said questionably, a smirk gracing his lips.

I rolled my eyes. "I understand the meaning behind the words, Edward, but I still need you to explain since I'm not really your wife. You said what's yours is mine which means I have the right to go around and say, "My refrigerator" or "My house" or "These are my cars," right?"

"Sure," Edward said with a shrug. "It's as much yours as it is mines since you're living here, too, and you are, _technically_, my wife."

"That's true," I agreed. "I was thinking maybe I'd get a job and…"

"Get a job for what?"

I rolled my eyes and answered, "Why else do people get jobs, Edward? I need the money."

"What part of 'what's mine is yours,' are you not understanding?" he asked, frustrated.

"Excuse me for not wanting to feel like a gold-digger," I snapped. "I'm not here for your money, Edward!"

"Technically you are," he snapped back. "Or was I just imagining putting money into your dad's account?"

My eyes widened at his words and filled with tears because that pissed me off _and_ hurt. "Gee, thanks, Edward! Way to make me feel like a fuckin' prostitute! That's the real reason I'm here, isn't it? You just wanted a slut on hand 24/7."

"I told you my reasons last night," he growled out. "And if I wanted a 'slut on hand 24/7' or a prostitute I wouldn't have to pay for her and she definitely would_ not_ be you!"

We stood there glaring at each other for the longest – as if that was going to solve something. It apparently was as neither one of us moved or stopped glaring until Edward huffed and rolled my eyes. I bit my lip to keep myself from smiling in victory.

"How do you feel about the paparazzi?"

"I think their annoying, bothersome assholes that need to find a different day job because no one likes them."

"Good. I hope you don't mind having your picture taken," he said.

"I can deal with it, why?"

"Because when I get home we're going out. I have a dinner with a business partner and client and I told him that I would be bringing my wife," he told me.

"Where will we be eating?" I asked him.

"La Italiana," he said.

"I don't have anything to wear to that place!" I cried.

"Alice and Rosalie are coming over. They will take you shopping," he said. He put his jacket on and grabbed his cup of coffee and headed for the garage. "I'll be off work at eight-thirty. We'll need to leave by nine for nine-thirty reservations. Here's my credit card – five thousand dollars is your limit."

"Okay," I said, nodding my head furiously and took the card from his hand. I wondered if he could tell that I was nervous. This would be my first task as his wife.

"Calm down, Bella, you have nothing to be nervous about." He knew. He sat in the car but came back up as the garage door began to open. "One last thing: If a woman named Esme, or a man named Carlisle, calls, answer the phone and tell them I am not home and then hang up."

"That's kind of rude," I said.

"Yea." He nodded his head and got back in the car. The window rolled down. "But if you stay on the phone they'll just yell and I rather be the one to tell them."

He pulled out of the garage and I followed. "Tell them what?" I yelled out to him.

"Bella," he called back to me with a laugh, "my parents have no idea I'm seeing someone, let alone married."

He sped down the driveway then while I stayed frozen where I was.

_**~MOB~**_

The front door rang an hour after Edward's departure and I took a big sip of my water to calm my nerves before I walked slowly toward the door. I had already met Rosalie, I wasn't nervous about her, but I had never met his sister, Alice, before.

I opened the door and was greeted by Rosalie's bright white smile. Her long, blonde locks were in curls and she was wearing a purple summer dress with black sandals. Next to her was a shorter girl, maybe 4'11, her hair was black and spiky and she wore a pink dress with black wedge heels.

"Hi…" I trailed off and my smile faltered as the short girl, who I assumed to be Alice, scowled at me and walked past me without so much as a glance or a word. "…What did I do?" I asked Rosalie in surprise.

Rosalie shrugged. "Alice just doesn't like new people all that much and she doesn't want to see her older brother get hurt. She'll come around, though, so don't worry about it," she replied.

"Okay," I said with a nod. "Wait, how is this going to work? All my things are in a separate room and Edward said she doesn't know…"

"We'll just tell her your things are in a different room until you and Edward both decide on what you will and won't keep," Rosalie said.

I nodded and moved up against the door so she could come inside. Locking the door behind me I followed her nervously to the kitchen. I couldn't, not for the life of me, understand why Alice disliked me so much already, when I had never even met her until now, and according to Edward she doesn't even know of our arrangement so there was no way she could be upset over _that_.

"Edward said you don't have nice things," Alice said as soon as we walked into the kitchen.

"Alice!" Rosalie yelled in surprise. "He did not say that!" She turned to look at me. "Bella, he didn't say that."

I shrugged and looked down. "I mean, compared to what he's used to I know I don't have anything 'nice,'" I said.

"Well, he didn't exactly say your things weren't nice, just that you needed something more for La Italiana," Alice amended. "He said you looked nice last night and he wants to see you wearing something like that tonight. So, what did you wear?"

"A dark blue dress with a black belt and some black heels," I answered. "I curled my hair too."

"She looked gorgeous," Rosalie told her.

I smiled gratefully at her and sighed heavily when the scowl still hadn't left Alice's face. "Can you take me to see it?" she asked.

I nodded and we headed up the stairs and into my room, where her scowl deepened and I stepped behind Rosalie slightly. "Um, my outfit is over there and the rest of my clothes are in that closet," I told her.

"You two have separate rooms," she said casually. "Who asked for that?"

"It's just until we figure out how much of our own stuff we'll be keeping," I explained, surprising myself at how easily the lie fell from my lips. I was usually such a bad liar.

"Mmmhmm," she said as she walked over to my closet door and opened it. "Are those your only heels?"

"They are," I confirmed.

"So, we're going to have to get a lot of new things for you," she began, "if you're going to be going on business dates and events with Edward. Do you have money for that?"

I pulled out the credit card Edward had given me. "Edward gave me a credit card for that," I told her.

"Of course he did," she muttered. Alice closed my closet door back and turned to face Rosalie and me. "We should get going then. It could possibly take us all day to get finished."

"Okay," I said. "Just let me lock up the house and I'll meet you two at the car."

They both nodded and the three of us made our way downstairs. They walked slowly to the front door and I moved just as slowly into the living. There I found the house phone and Edward's cell phone number that he left for me.

"She hates me," I said in way of greeting as soon as he answered the phone.

"Who hates you?"

"Alice, Edward! Your sister hates me!" I screeched. "I don't know why but she hates me."

"Why would she hate you?" he asked. "You two have never even met before."

I rolled my eyes. "Thank you, Captain Obvious!"

He chuckled. "Look, Alice doesn't like new people, Bella. You just have to let her warm up to you and after that, if she's still a bitch, I'll talk to her for you. How does that sound?" he asked.

I sighed and said, "I'm sorry for bothering you at work. I'm supposed to be handling my problems on my way, yet I'm calling you and asking for help. Thanks for listening, though."

"Hello, Edward, are you busy?" a female voice, with what I assumed to be a Russian accent, asked.

"No, I'm about to end this call right now," Edward said, though it sounded like he moved the phone away from his mouth for a minute. "I'll see later tonight, Bella, all right? Just give Alice a chance to warm up to you and she'll come around."

I hung the phone up a few seconds after he hung up on me and headed for the front door. After locking it I made my way to Rosalie's Escalade.

"What took you so long?" Alice asked when I hopped into the back.

"Edward called," I answered with far more venom than I meant to. "He just wanted to see if you girls had arrived yet and I told him yes and that we were leaving now."

"Oh, how nice of him to check in," she said snarkishly.

I rolled my eyes and caught Rosalie doing the same thing. "And we're off to the races," Rosalie muttered.

_**~MOB~**_

"Those are really cute shoes!" I exclaimed as we walked past the third shoe store. "I want those!"

We decided to go to a mall that was about thirty minutes away called Perimeter, and inside Perimeter were stores that I was never even able to dream about because they were so expensive. We stopped at three different stores so far and I bought myself three dresses from each. The last two shoe stores we walked past hadn't caught my eye.

"Finally," Rosalie said with a playful smile. "Let's go get them!"

The shoes were a cute pair of black, 5-inch ankle boots with a grosgrain bow. "They're one hundred dollars," Alice said casually; however, it was a little too casual for my liking.

"I know, but I figured since Edward gave me a five thousand dollar limit and we're nowhere near reaching that that I could get these. I'll just make sure the other shoes I get aren't as expensive." I shrugged and began looking for the shoes in my size.

"What size are you?" Rosalie asked as she squatted down next to me.

"I wear a 9," I told her.

"You've already bought nine dresses that were a hundred dollars each and now you're going to buy a hundred dollars shoes. You still plan on getting more shoes even after all of that?" Alice asked me in disbelief.

"Alice, I'm not sure why you're complaining. Bella hardly spent anything if we compare it to the way you shop," Rosalie snapped.

"I was only going to get two more pairs, Alice, and I was going to make sure they weren't super expensive," I assured her. "And I have a five thousand dollar limit. I can still buy a lot of things before I have to worry about the prices."

"Here they are!" Rosalie announced, handing me the shoes I wanted in my size.

"Awesome," I said excitedly. "I've had so much fun today! You girls were so much help, too. I never would have gotten anything if you two hadn't of come."

"You can thank me by making sure you put everything you got to good use," Rosalie said seriously.

I nodded and told her very seriously, "Of course. I'll knock everyone dead with my little black dress while taking their eyes out wearing my five inch heels."

Rosalie threw her head back, laughed, and said, "That's the spirit!"

I grinned at her before we both walked away to do some shopping on our own while Alice sat in a chair at the front of the store sulking. I sighed and wondered why she hated me so much already, but I didn't dwell on it. I was here to have fun and shop and that's what I did.

"Did you ladies find everything you were looking for?" the pretty cashier asked when Rosalie and I made our way to the counter.

"I did, thanks," Rosalie said.

I nodded. "I did, too. I had trouble picking between blue and red so I got them both," I told Rosalie.

They were five inch Michael Antonio heels and they were so cute that I had to get them both! And they were only fifty dollars, so I figured that was fine, but Alice didn't look too happy with the price tags on those, either. It probably didn't help that I found another pair of one hundred and seventy-nine dollars nude heels and a thirty-nine dollar pair of black wedges.

I shrugged at her half-heartedly as I handed over Edward's card. I had never been able to spend money on myself like this on any pair of shoes I wanted, so now that I had the chance I wasn't going to hold back, but I also wasn't going to spend all of Edward's money. I was still well in my shopping range and had a while to go before I reached it or surpassed it.

"Nice," Rosalie said, nodding her head approvingly at my selections.

"Thanks," I said.

"Do you know what you're going to wear?"

"Nope, but I do know how I'm going to do my hair," I said.

"I love the fact that you hair stops at your butt," Rosalie said with a wistful sigh. "You can do so much with it."

I rolled my eyes. "Your hair stops at your lower back, Rosalie, you can do a lot with yours, too," I said.

"We're friends now, Bella, you can call me Rose," she said. "And that's true. What are you doing with your hair?"

"Have a good day," the cashier said as we began to walk away with our purchases.

"Thanks, you too!" I called back to her before we walked out the store. "I was thinking big curls."

"Edward likes curls," Alice said randomly.

I looked over at her in surprise, as it was her first non spiteful comment she'd said all day. "Really? That's great," I said. "That'll work perfectly, then."

"My friend Zafrina works at the salon that's at the end of the mall. We can go to her if you want," Rosalie offered.

I nodded. "Does she take walk-ins?" I asked.

Rosalie nodded her head and began walking toward the end of the mall. "She does. She just texted me back and said she's open and she's now holding the spot for us."

"Thank goodness. It would have taken me forever to do my own hair the way I'm seeing it in my head," I said.

"So, what exactly do you want me to do to your hair today?" Zafrina asked me after I sat down in her chair. She placed a cover-up on me and as I stared at the pictures in the book she handed me.

"I want the really big, curly hair without looking like I walked straight out of the eighties," I said and she nodded her head in understanding. "Also, a wash, conditioner, and a trim would be nice. I haven't had a trim in a while and I don't want my ends to start splitting."

Zafrina nodded. "I can do that for you, Sugar. You're in luck, too. We just got some new strawberry scented shampoo and conditioner. Your hair already smells like that's what you use," she said.

"It is," I said with a smile.

"All right, let's get started then. Rosalie, Maggie and Siobhan are open over there if you two lovely ladies would like something done, too," Zafrina said to Rosalie.

"We'll do that, thanks." Rosalie smiled at the both of us before walking away, Alice behind her.

"After this we should get our nails and toes done," I heard Alice say.

I smiled at the thought and closed my eyes when Zafrina cut on the water.

_**~MOB~**_

Our hands were full with shopping bags, our hair was done nice and neat, and our nails and toes had been manicured and looked beautiful if I did say so myself, and it was a nice warm day outside: not too hot, but just hot enough to let us now that summer was not over _just_ yet.

Alice had even stopped being snarky by the time we decided to go and get ice cream. We stopped at Starbucks on our way back home and I felt truly happy for the first time since being here.

"Isabella Cullen," the lady called, announcing that my White Chocolate Mocha was ready.

"Are we going back to the house after this or are doing something else?" Rose asked before I walked away.

I shrugged and looked toward Alice who did the same. "I'm actually pretty tired," she said. "So, let's just call it a day."

Rosalie and I nodded before I walked away to get my coffee, only to have someone step in front of me. The guy was taller than me, maybe 5'7, and he was well-built and under his baseball cap I could see he was a dirty blonde with green eyes and a cute baby face. A name tag on his shirt read "Mike".

"Cullen as in Esme and Carlisle Cullen, as in Edward Cullen, right?" he asked me.

I frowned at him and said, "Yes. Are you two friends? Do you know the family well?"

Mike laughed. "Something like that, toots. I saw you with your friends, you girls look gorgeous today."

"Um, thanks, Mike," I said, smiling awkwardly.

"You know my name, it's only fair that I know yours, toots." He grinned at me. I was under the impression that this guy thought he was cuter than he actually was and that he was "cool" or something with the whole calling me toots thing.

"Isabel Curly Fry," I said.

He frowned at me for a moment before a nervous chuckle escape his mouth. A smile of embarrassment graced his lips and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Right, sorry, you're Isabella Cullen."

"I am," I confirmed, side stepping him and walked up to the counter to grab my coffee. When I turned back around he was there in front of me again, closer than I liked. I jumped slightly in surprise before taking a step back. "Is there something that you wanted, Mike?"

"You said that your last name was Cullen like the well-known Cullen family. Are you by any chance related to them?" he asked me.

"Something like that," I said and tried to step around him again but he moved with me. This went on for a good minute of two before I huffed in annoyance and glared at him. "What do you want from me?"

"How are you related to them?" he asked me.

"Does that really matter?" I asked him.

"Yes."

"We're married."

His eyes widened in surprise. "M – Married? You're married to Edward Cullen?"

"I am," I told him. I rolled my eyes when he immediately looked down at my ring finger. "Is that all you wanted?"

Before he could answer Rosalie and Alice suddenly appeared by his side, both glaring menacingly, and he shrienked back in fear. He obviously realized these were two girls that he didn't want to mess with. "Yes, Mrs. Cullen, that was all. Rosalie, Alice," he said and tipped his hat them before scurrying away.

"He said he didn't know any of you," I said, confused.

"Not personally," Alice replied. "He works for Ok! Magazine. What all did you tell him?"

I frowned. "Why would Ok! Magazine be trying to get information out of me about my husband? I told him that Edward and I are married. He wanted to know how I was related to the Cullen's."

"That was all you told him? No other personal things were said after that?" Rosalie asked me, concerned.

"No, I promise," I said. "Why are two so concerned?"

"Edward's got a big reputation to protect as I'm sure you know," Alice said. I nodded. "Since he's constantly helping the rich and famous and all these big companies, they're forever trying to get dirt on him. They're trying to prove that he doesn't deserve all the praise he gets as a lawyer."

"I can't believe he has to live with that," I said in disbelief. "That's the worst thing ever."

"Apparently, you get used to it," Alice said. She laughed at the look on my face. "I remember I felt the same way when he told me that but it is true. You _do_ get used to it eventually, though, from what I can see. Edward seems to be doing better since when it first started happening."

"He has been," I confirmed, though I had no idea if what I was saying was actually true or not.

The rest of the ride home was silent save for the music playing on the radio and I was happy to see that this silence wasn't awkward this time.

_**~MOB~**_

"I'm not sure about this dress," I said for what felt like the millionth time. "My boobs are way too big for this. Edward and I are going somewhere fancy; I do not want to look like a whore!"

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "You look gorgeous, Bella, now deal with it! So, your boobs are bigger than the skinny bimbo that was promoting that dress and you have more curves than she sees while driving, who cares! You look amazing; fancy enough to go to a fancy restaurant."

"My parents couldn't afford the pay at my school anymore and look at what happened! I got fat," I said with a sigh. "My dad loved me, I know, but he started saying I needed to work on my weight and maybe I do…"

"Bella, you stopped dancing and doing gymnastics and dropped your diet. Do you know what that did to you?" she asked me. I shook my head. "It gave you the body of a woman instead of a teenage boy. You have a Christina Hendricks' body, Bella, and that's wonderful. You should embrace it."

I sighed and looked at myself in the full-length mirror again. The light blue bondage dress stopped just a few inches above my knees and hugged my curves nicely. I _did_ like the way I looked, but my insecurities were messing with my head and made me doubtful of my appearance. I abruptly stood up taller and squared my shoulders and held my head up high.

I looked beautiful and I was going to be the perfect wife today.

Rosalie grinned from behind me at my sudden mind change. "That's my girl. Now, put on your shoes. Edward just texted me and said he's downstairs waiting," she informed me.

I nodded and slipped on my ankle boots that I bought earlier and looked at myself in the mirror one more time. My hair was in big curls, my make up was done by Rosalie, and my shoes and my dress looked good. I looked good.

"You'll knock 'em dead," Rosalie said.

I grabbed my black clutch and stuck the little bit of money I had with me inside along with my lip gloss and mascara and a few other things before nodding my head. "I'm ready to go," I announced.

"Good."

We had gotten to the third step at the bottom when I stopped suddenly and turned to Rosalie, grabbing onto the banister to stop myself from falling. "I can't do this. I already know I can't. I'm going to fuck this up for him and…"

"I haven't been that mean to you to the point you have to make excuses to back out," Edward said from behind me.

I froze and then narrowed my eyes at Rosalie when she smirked at me. Rolling my eyes I turned to face Edward and everything I was going to say left me. I'd seen him in dress clothes on his way to work, but I'd never actually seen him in a suit. I know it's only been two days since I've been here, but still… I've no idea what kind of suit it was, but it was black and it fit him perfectly and with his hand in his right pocket he looked like a model from a GQ Magazine.

I looked back up and blushed when I met Edward's eyes as his smirk let on that I was caught ogling. Clearing my throat, I said, "No! I didn't mean for it to sound like that, I just meant… Never mind, we have nine-thirty reservations, are you ready to go?"

Edward nodded his head and walked up the two steps under me and put his hand out for me to take. "I am. Are _you_ ready to go?" he asked.

I took a deep breath and nodded and took his hand and he helped me down the few remaining stairs. We stood there for a moment and after things became awkward I looked up at him to see him glaring and I turned my head to see Rosalie glaring back. "Are you two all right?" I asked them, staring between the two of them in confusion.

"Of course," Rosalie said. "Edward and I were just having a silent conversation. You'll get used to it."

"Bella, you look beautiful," Edward murmured in my ear.

I looked back over at him in surprise and self-consciously folded my arms lightly across my waist. "Um, thanks. We should go if we don't want to be late," I said. He nodded and began walked toward the front door. I frowned in confusion. "We're not taking the garage?"

He shook his head and turned to look back at me. "We're taking my Ashton Martin which is always parked in the front, and the paparazzi are out back waiting for us to leave, so we'd never get out of here if we went that way," he explained.

"Oh, okay," I said and followed. "Bye, Rosalie, thanks for today!"

"You're welcome, Bella," she said with a laugh. "I want to hear all about it tomorrow, though! I hear you're eating dinner with the snobbish people."

I groaned playfully. "No, save me Rose, save me…!" I yelled but Edward shut the door before she could respond. I laughed at his annoyed face. "I'm sorry…"

"You're not," he said seriously. "But that is okay. I'm glad you feel comfortable enough here to be yourself."

I smiled shyly at him, but my response that I had ready for him was cut off when we walked down to the end of the drive way and I saw the Ashton Martin he said we were taking. "My, God, Edward, I've only seen these in magazines! You actually have one," I said in awed surprised. "She's a beauty."

"What makes you think she's a girl?" Edward asked as he opened the passenger side door for me.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I just assumed. If you like to ride guys, Edward, then that's…"

"Not even funny," he snapped before shutting the door for me.

I laughed the entire time he walked around the car and somehow managed to stop when the driver side door opened. "I'm sorry, but you know that was funny, Edward," I said as way of an apology.

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. So, how'd your day go?" He pulled out of the driveway and began to take off down the road.

"Your driving is scaring me," I said seriously. The needle move down to seventy and I calmed slightly. "My day went good. Alice likes me now and apparently we're going to be in Ok! Magazine tomorrow. Some guy named Mike heard my name get called at Starbucks and he wouldn't leave me alone until I told him we were married and … Why the hell don't your parents know?"

He shrugged and said, "I was going to tell them before anyone was able to get to you, but I was never able to get around to it so I didn't. You told them that we were married and…?"

"Are they going to be pissed?" I asked him. "And I got some dresses and shoes and got my hair done and my nails and my toes, but I didn't spend all of your money. I didn't even reach the budget you gave me, not that Alice would have let me get that far."

"Probably, but if I tell her about it first that'll calm her down somewhat," he answered. "Why wouldn't she have let you reach your budget?"

"Because she had a problem with me spending your money, that's why."

Edward didn't say anything after that and I turned to look out the window when it became obvious our talk was over.

"I'm not sure this is the right dress," I said to Edward when we pulled up to the restaurant, just a few cars behind from having to get out to get the car parked. There were paparazzi everywhere and I was confused as to why but I didn't question it. "Do I look like a bimbo to you?"

"If you look like a bimbo then all the other women here look like bimbos, too."

I scowled at him and said, "That doesn't make me feel better."

"You don't look like a bimbo, Bella," he assured me. "You look nice and fitting for the restaurant."

"So when we go in there you're not going to be ashamed of me? You're not going to regret buying me as your full-time prostitute?" Edward glared at me for the word I used and I rolled my eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry; do you not like that word? Edward, when we go in there you're not going to regret buying me as your full-time escort, are you?"

"With your smart ass mouth I might," he snapped. "Get out the car and pretend to love me."

I laughed. "You're asking a lot of me," I hissed. My door opened and I was all smiles. "Thank you, sir," I said to the gentleman who opened the door for me.

"You're welcome, Mrs. Cullen," he replied with a soft smile.

I stared at him in surprise but before I could ask him how he knew who I was, Edward was hooking his arm with mine and lacing his fingers through mine. He squeezed my fingers softly when I froze at the bright flashes and yelling for a minute before loosening his grip and we headed inside, following behind everyone else.

"How'd he know who I was?" I asked Edward quietly.

"I told him I was bringing my wife for dinner. That was Sam; my personal valet," Edward told me.

"I didn't know people had personal valets."

He shrugged and said, "Usually not, but I've known him for a while – he's the only one I trust with my car and with my things that I leave inside my car."

"Well, I'm glad you can trust somebody here. I'd hate to leave my car with just anybody and feel like I can't trust them," I said.

"Edward! Edward, who's the lady?" someone yelled out.

"Are you two married? I don't think anyone missed the rock on her hand!" some lady called out.

"What's your name, girl?" some guy asked me.

"Isabella Cullen!" a familiar voice called out.

"That Mike?" Edward asked me, annoyance clear in his voice, when he looked over to my right and saw Mike standing there.

"That Mike," I confirmed.

"They're married! She told me so today at Starbucks!" he yelled, immediately getting the attention of all the people around him.

Edward and I quickly made our way inside with the other people I didn't recognize but knew they were being bothered just like us.

"La Italiana is a play house, too?" I asked in surprise as we made our way up some stairs and into a booth overlooking multiple tables and a large stage.

Edward nodded his head. "It is. This is the reason I chose it actually. My potential clients that we're meeting with today love the theater and opera. I figured I'd use that to my advantage," he explained.

"That makes sense," I said. A waiter that was already waiting for us inside smiled at me and pulled out a chair for me at the right end of the table, closer to the stage. I took my seat and smiled up at him and said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Mrs. Cullen," he said. "Good evening, Mr. Cullen, how are you tonight?"

"I'm fine, Embry, thanks," Edward answered.

"Are you ready to order your drinks or will you be waiting for the rest of the party?" Embry asked.

"We can order now," Edward answered. "I'll take a glass of Chardonnay and Bella here will take a Coke."

Embry nodded at Edward's words and wrote them down on his notepad but he looked to me for confirmation. I smiled. "A Coke sounds good, thank you."

He smiled back at me and giggled when he walked out as I did not miss the red hue his dark cheeks took on.

"I want what you're drinking," I told Edward.

"I don't condone underage drinking."

"We're in an Italian restaurant, Edward. The legal drinking age here is 16," I said. "I just want one glass! Please?"

Edward rolled his eyes. "Are you really trying to use puppy dog eyes on me, Bella?"

"Depends on if it is working," I said casually with a shrug.

"It isn't."

"Well, then, I'll beg you for it! I just want a glass," I told him.

"This is the sign of a future alcoholic," Edward told me.

I rolled my eyes. "I like it, Edward, but I am not going to become an alcoholic. I can't become an alcoholic because you won't let me drink any alcohol."

"You can have some of mine."

"I can only have some?" I asked teasingly.

Edward rolled his eyes at me again but didn't respond as the door to the room was opened again and in came Embry with our drinks and four more people. The two gentlemen that entered the room looked to be in their forties and they were both wearing blue suits. One of the men had a beautiful brunette with blue streaks on his arm that looked to be about my age. She wore a short black dress that left little to the imagination with blue flats that matched the streaks in her hair.

The other gentleman had a baby-faced blonde on his arm. She wore a floor-length red dress with a slit on the right side alone with a pair of to die for red pumps. If I had to guess I would she was the same age as him and the matching rings on their fingers were any indication.

Edward stood up and gave a firm handshake to each of the men. "Mr. Lahote, Mr. Rivera, it's nice to see you," he said.

The older man with the young woman rolled his eyes and patted Edward on the back with a grin. "Please, Edward, we've known each other for the longest and we're all adults here. There's no need for titles. I prefer Paul, you know that," he said. He looked over at me and grinned. "This must be the wife we've heard so much about? You sure didn't do her justice, son. I'm Paul Lahote, you must be Mrs. Cullen."

I grinned back, feeling comfortable with this man already, and shook his hand. "Isabella Cullen, it's nice to meet you Mr.…"

"The same thing I said to Edward goes to you, young lady," he said sternly but playfully.

"It's nice to meet you Paul," I said.

He grinned at me and took a seat at the left end of the table.

"Might as well call me Sam," Mr. Rivera said. "Mrs. Cullen, it's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too, Sam," I said. "And, it's Bella to the both of you." Paul and Sam grinned at me.

Sam sat down a seat away from Edward and his wife sat next to him. "This is my wife Emily," he introduced.

"And this is Rachel," Paul said.

"Hello," everyone said at the same time.

"Your Coke, Mrs. Cullen," Embry said as he finally got around to giving Edward and me our drinks.

"Oh, thank you Embry," I said.

He nodded his head and gave Edward his wine before taking everyone else's drink orders and leaving. When the food arrived along with another couple by the name of James Hunter, Edward's partner, and Victoria Jones the meeting went on smoothly: the food was delicious, I got a glass of wine, and the play was amazing. While the men talked business we girls sat on a couch that was placed against the wall and talked.

I found myself not liking Victoria because she was too stuck-up and seemed to think she was better than the rest of us and I wondered if the other two girls felt the same way.

"So, I have to use the ladies room," I said quietly as I stood up.

"Oh! I'm glad you said something. I wasn't sure if we were allowed to leave or something," Rachel said and jumped up as well.

Emily rolled her eyes. "You'll get used to these things and learn the ropes," she explained. "I've been doing this for about fifteen years now."

"Wow, that's a long time. Have you two been married long?" I asked her.

"Nine of those fifteen years," she said, smiling proudly. You could see the love and adoration she had for her husband in her eyes and in that smile.

"That's great. I'm very happy for you, but I really have to go to the ladies room," I said, earning a laugh from her and Rachel.

Walking past the men I put a hand on Edward's shoulder and squeezed it lightly to silently let him know I'd be back and walked out the booth with Rachel. "So, do you know where the bathroom is?"

Rachel laughed. "I have no idea! I was hoping you knew!" she said.

I chuckled and we began wondering around. "I don't mean to be rude, but how did you and Paul meet?" I asked her.

Rachel rolled her eyes and then shook her head. "That isn't rude at all! At first it bothered me when people asked me that question because I knew they were talking about our age difference, but I got used to it. Paul is the CEO of Mason Enterprise. I don't really know what he does, but my dad works for his company and he took me alone with him to their Christmas party two years ago and we met and we've been together ever since," she told me.

"Two years ago?" I said in surprise. "You must be older than I assumed."

She laughed and nodded her head. "I get that a lot. I'm twenty-four," she told me.

"Wow. I was thinking that you were eighteen like me," I said.

"You're eighteen?" she looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"It was one glass!"

"I wasn't going to tell!" she said, laughing at me.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll be nineteen next month on the thirteenth," I said.

"Well, then, we'll definitely have to get together for your birthday," she said just as we found the restroom.

I nodded my head and readily agreed. I actually liked Rachel and Emily. They both reminded me of my best friend Leah from back in Forks in their own ways. After doing what we had to do in the restrooms Rachel and I made our way back to our booth where we ate desert and then sat around for another thirty minutes before Paul declared loudly:

"Well, I think you just found yourself two new clients, Edward!"

"That is great, Paul. I'm glad you're choosing to work with us instead of someone else," he said, shaking Paul's hand.

Paul rolled his eyes. "Hush, boy, you knew I was coming here all along."

Edward laughed and them two of them talked quietly together while James and Sam talked.

"Well, Emily and I should go relieve the babysitter of babysitting duties. Lord knows the poor girl is probably drowning in their badness," Sam said.

Emily stood up from the couch and gave Rachel and I each a hug and kiss on the cheek. "Now, girls, remember what I said: just because I'm older than the both of you doesn't mean I'm not young enough to party. I better get an invite, Isabella," she said sternly with a hint of playfulness in her smirk.

I laughed. "I promise you'll be the first to get the invitation," I told her.

"Tell Mattie and Amelia I said hello," Rachel said.

She nodded her head and walked out the room, hand-in-hand, with her husband. I laughed softly as I caught site of her swinging their hands wildly back and forth before the door closed. "Victoria, it was nice meeting you," I said and smiled awkwardly at her.

"Right," she said with an eye roll. "Edward, it was nice seeing you again but I'm afraid we must be going now."

Edward nodded his head. "Of course, thanks for joining us, Victoria."

"Edward," James said, sticking his arm out.

They shook his hands and promised to see each other tomorrow but I didn't miss the tension or the coolness between the two of them. "Isabella," he said. He took my hand and kissed it before smirking at me. "It was nice to meet you. I never thought I'd actually see the day Edward would settle down and get married – and to such a beautiful girl!" He clapped his hands together before putting an arm around Victoria's waist. "Well, we must be going. I'll see you all sometime soon."

They walked out of the room and as soon as the door was closed Paul said, "I can't stand him! Or his girlfriend, either."

Edward shook his head. "I get that bad feeling about him, too, but Dad liked him and there isn't much I can do about him."

"Like hell you can't," Paul muttered, helping Rachel put on her coat. "It's your firm now, Edward. You can do whatever in the hell you please as long as it isn't illegal." Everyone laughed but I couldn't help but again notice the tension in Edward's laugh. "Goodbye now, Mr. and Mrs. Cullen.

"Bye," I said softly just before the door clicked behind them.

Edward and I were the last two remaining in the room. No longer having to keep up the pretense of the perfect wife, I took my heels off and sat down on the table that had been cleared long ago. "I think tonight was successful, don't you?"

He pushed himself off against the wall he was leaning against and came over and sat by me on the table. "It did go well. Paul said he was going to pick me anyways, but I don't think that's true. The other company was offering a lot more than what I was offering him. I think he liked you – maybe a little too much – and that's what made him say yes," he explained.

I rolled my eyes and snorted in disbelief, and said, "Right. Edward, I heard you over there. You were doing really well. You were great. I'm thinking you dazzled Sam just a little bit, too."

"Nope, it was all you, so thanks for coming. I may have to take you with me just to compliment the deal each time," he said.

I grinned and wagged my eyebrows at him. "So, you get to be Jay-Z and I get to be your super hot, super curvy Beyonce? I'm upgrading you already, Edward?" I asked him playfully. He glared at me and I laughed and backtracked with, "Okay, so maybe not Jay-Z because he isn't the sexiest looking guy ever but you get what I mean. Do you know what my mother always told me to do if I and someone else do something good with or for each other?"

"What?"

I jumped up from the table and stood in front of him, spreading my arms wide, and smirking at him as I replied, "Give hugs."

"I don't hug."

"Sure you do, Edward, because you're going to hug me right now. Live a little, man; we're celebrating our first accomplishment and our first day without any kind of arguing," I said and walked closer to him to pull him into a hug.

"Bella, I don't like to hug, dammit!" he said and moved out of the way before jumping down from the table. I snorted as he walked around the table. "If you want to touch me all you have to do is ask."

I rolled my eyes and let out a huff of annoyance. "First you're convinced I want to see you naked and now you think I just want to touch you for the hell of it? Edward, puh-leaz, get over yourself; I'm a hugger and I just happen to have to hug you right now for what we did tonight."

"How about we do an air hug?" he asked me. "I can do those."

"Fear of commitment so much so that you have to buy a wife and fear of hugging where you'd rather do an air hug," I said, tapping two of my fingers as I named off the things I knew about Edward so far. "Is there anything else you would like me to add to my 'Things that make Edward ridiculous' list while I'm thinking about it?"

"I am not ridiculous!" he hissed. "Nor am I afraid of hugs!"

"Well, you sure could have fooled me," I said with a huff.

Edward glared at me before rolling his eyes in annoyance and growled out, "Fine, come over here and I'll give you a hug."

"Why do I have to come to you?"

"Do you want the hug or not?"

I snickered and walked over to him. It was a tight squeeze as he was on the side closest to the wall so I couldn't figure out how this would work but I didn't have to. Edward grabbed both of my wrists in his left hand and held them above my head and pushed on my hip with his left, sending me into the wall.

"Edward! I just wanted a hug," I said, laughing at the glare on his face.

"I'm not hugging you," he hissed out.

"Do you hug your mother?" I asked.

"Of course, but she's my mother," he said.

"Well, I'm your new best friend. You should be able to hug me," I said, "especially if we're going to be together _all_ the time now."

Edward didn't say anything for a minute. He just looked down and backed away. The moment he did go to open his mouth, though, nothing came out. I looked down to follow his line of sight and saw that my breasts were directly in his view.

I blushed and felt the heat stretch on from my cheeks to my chest and that was when Edward's eyes came back up to meet mine, albeit slowly. My breath hitched when he bent over slightly and leaned in toward me. He paused just mere inches from my face, his questioning eyes burning into mine - he wanted permission to kiss me. I nodded my head.

"Say it," he demanded. "Out loud."

"Yes," I whispered.

His lips were on mine suddenly and my eyes closed automatically. Edward's right arm circled around me and his fingers dug into my hip as he pulled me closer to him. I arched my back on reflex, pushing my breast further into his chest.

"Huh," I gasped, arching my back even further when Edward's lips left mine only to find the left side of my neck. He kissed the flesh located just below my ear before kissing downward until he met shoulder, only to repeat the circuit again. "Kiss me again, please," I begged between heavy breathing and gasps.

His lips were on mine again instantly and I moaned as his tongue entered my mouth and marveled at how they seemed to dance; they were so familiar with each other already it was almost ridiculous. It also surprised me that Edward seemed to be enjoying himself, because I'd never kissed a man in my life. I mean, there was Jacob but that was only a chaste kiss and I never even thought about French kissing him. We were also only fourteen, for heaven sakes! He wasn't a _man _yet.

Edward moved away from my mouth and went for my neck again when it became too much for me and I needed to breath. I gasped heavily and repeatedly, trying to catch my breath, but Edward wasn't helping me catch it as his lips went from my neck, to my shoulder, and on my left breast, moving my strap down my shoulder slowly.

"I'm just going to – Oh, my God! I am so sorry!"

Edward and I froze momentarily before he straightened up and moved enough to the side for me to catch a glimpse of Embry before he slammed the door shut.

I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor and refused to look at Edward until my breathing was back to normal. I would have waited until my lips weren't as red and swollen as I was sure they were, but I knew that would have taken a while.

Edward had is forehead pressed against the wall and his hands on the back of his neck when I looked over at him a few minutes after my breathing calmed. His eyes were closed and he was still breathing heavy and I noted, with confusion, that he was suddenly very, very angry.

"Edward, what's wrong…"

"I'll meet you out front," he snapped at me before storming out of the room, slamming the door shut roughly behind me.

I sat there for a moment in shock before bursting out in tears. I rolled my eyes at myself and tried to stop the tears from falling but nothing I did would work. "Stop crying, you big baby!" I chastised myself. "You don't even know why you're crying, so stop it!"

The tears came faster and harder then as I lied to myself. Of course I knew what was wrong with me! I was embarrassingly aroused and had just been seen dry humping in a booth at a restaurant and then shot down, too! I was mortified, but there was no way I was going to admit this out loud.

It took me five minutes to stop crying and another two to fix my makeup and when I looked at the clock I realized it was eleven forty-two and figured Edward would probably want to get home now so he could do whatever he had to do before work tomorrow.

I stood up from the table and began putting my things in my clutch when the door opened.

"Mrs. Cullen, may I come in?"

I looked over at the door to see a very nervous Embry sticking his head through the door. I nodded my head and said, "Sure, come on in, Embry."

I sat back down in one of the chairs when I realized I hadn't put my shoes on and looked at him expectantly.

"I'm really sorry about…"

"Oh! Embry, that's okay! It was an accident," I said, waving him off.

"It was, but I am still sorry about it," he said softly. "Are you okay?"

I sniffled and nodded my head before standing up after zipping up my boots. "I'm fine, Embry, thanks," I said. "Did anyone leave you a tip?"

Embry nodded and a huge grin took over his face. "Each of you tipped me one hundred dollars," he said.

I laughed in surprise. "Wow. That's an amazing tip," I said. "Thanks for tonight, Embry; you were literally the best server I've ever had." I slipped him an extra twenty because it was the highest I could afford to give him.

"Thanks, Mrs. Cullen," he said excitingly.

"You're welcome, Embry, and it's Bella," I said before leaving him to put the chairs on top of the table.

When I got outside I was expecting to have to go wandering around the parking lot to find Edward, but I was surprised to see him standing a little ways away from the door on my left, a beer in his hand.

"Took you long enough," he hissed when I walked over to him.

"I – I'm sorry," I stuttered out, surprised by his sudden hostility when the night had been going so well. "I got sidetracked and then I started talking to Embry. He's a really sweet guy. If I ever come back here I'll have to request him personally. Emily wants to take me to dinner for my birthday so maybe I'll invite him there…"

"I want you to stay away from him," Edward snapped and began walking away.

"You want me to stay away from Embry? Why?" I asked him and ran to keep up with him.

"Because Embry isn't that nice of a guy, and I fucking said so!" he yelled

I bit my tongue to keep from telling him that he couldn't tell me what to do and that he wasn't my father because he was already in a bad mood and I did _not_ want to make it worse. Instead I rolled my eyes and got into the car, ignoring his trying to be a gentleman.

I rested my arm on the windows arm rest and put my head on my hand and closed my eyes. I could feel Edward staring at me through my window and when he got in the car but I refused to look at him. If I did he would see that he was successful in making me cry. Again.

_Get yourself together!_ I snapped at myself in my head.

The ride home was silent, save for the soft classical music coming from his radio, and tense and very awkward. I hated it. I didn't want to be in a marriage, fake or not, with someone I didn't like and who didn't like me back. There would be no point in being married!

"Bella, wake up," a voice whispered in my ear. I groaned and shook my head. I didn't want to wake up. "If you don't wake up I'm going to have to carry you and carrying you involves touching you and sometime during the trip you threatened to hurt me if I touched you."

"Shh," I mumbled.

"Picking you up it is, then," it mumbled.

I shot up when I was pulled out of the car in a panic and looked around for a moment before looking down and seeing that I wasn't on the ground but it was moving, and then looking up to see Edward. He was looking down at me.

"Are you awake?" he asked me.

I nodded and he sat down and that was when I realized we'd made it back to the house and we standing on his front porch. He opened the house door and after glaring at the inside of it for a moment I walked in.

"So, Um…" Edward rubbed the back of his neck nervously and cleared his throat, "… I'm going to take a shower and go to bed. If you need me…"

"I probably won't," I cut him off. "Goodnight, Edward."

I took my shoes off and headed to the kitchen where I screamed immediately. There, sitting on one of the stools at the island, was a beautiful red-head with a bronze-ish tent to it, glaring at me.

"Isabella," she said hotly. "Edward. Hello."

I turned around to at the mentioning of Edward's name and saw him coming up behind me. He looked panicked for a moment but the minute his eyes landed on the woman he relaxed, and the minute he was behind me, his hand on the small of my back, I relaxed.

I turned back to look at the woman that had been sitting in our kitchen when I walked in and finally put two-and-two together. They looked so much alike it wasn't even funny.

"Mom."


	5. Chapter 5: Edward Cullen

_**A|N:**_I'm sorry this is so (extremely) late! I haven't been feeling myself lately and lost all inspiration I had for this story, but I've gotten it back, and chapter six (hopefully seven as well to make up for my lack of updating) should be up by Thursday at the most.

Also, I've started a new story. _One Lonely Brown Eye_ is up on Twilighted under this same penname (JacksonRobKellan) and if you're interested, you should go take a look! I'm thinking about putting it up on here as well.

**DC: I DO NOT OWN TWILIGHT OR ANYTHING DEALING WITH THE SERIES!**

* * *

><p>Chapter 5: Edward Cullen<p>

_A week later, I had made up my mind to go, and my bags were packed. I was going to become some man's wife to prevent my parents from becoming homeless. I was packing my bags to leave when the doorbell rang and I froze. My heart began to beat faster and harder, but I chided myself in my head and forced myself to calm down; I didn't know it was her, so there was no sense in jumping to conclusions. _

"_Bella, I need you to get down here, please!" Charlie yelled to me from the bottom of the stairs._

_I sighed, and my shoulders slumped – no room for doubt now._

_Ms. Hale had told us the same day my dad I found out about Edward picking me that she would stop by sometime during the upcoming week, I just hadn't expected it to be on a Monday. _

_I walked down the stairs and saw Ms. Hale and my dad standing at there. Ms. Hale held a black briefcase in her hand, and I already knew what was inside. I walked slowly down the last step, and we stood around awkwardly staring at each other._

"_All right, we should get this done," Charlie said, clapping his hands softly and smiling_

_He turned on his heel, leaving Ms. Hale and me alone. "Well, he seems… happy," she muttered dryly._

"_He's ecstatic," I agreed with a scowl on my face._

_She looked at me sympathetically but said nothing else, so I headed for the kitchen, with her hot on my heels. When we got there, Charlie was sitting at our round kitchen table, and we both took a seat on opposite sides of him._

"_Mr. Swan, as I informed you before, Edward has chosen Isabella to take as his wife, but that doesn't really matter, as everybody in this deal has to be a willing participant and not going against their will," Ms. Hale said, staring pointedly at Dad and then me. "Isabella, have you decided to go through with this? Please understand that you don't have to."_

_I stared at my dad with pleading eyes, but all he did was glare, promises of being kicked out of the home clear in his eyes. I sighed before nodding my head. "I've decided to go through with it, Ms. Hale. It's for the best."_

_Ms. Hale looked between the two of us for a moment before sighing herself and placing her briefcase on the table. She opened it and stared at my dad. "He picked her because he enjoyed the information packet he received on her, and she was the healthiest." Ms. Hale pulled a large, thick, orange envelope out of the briefcase before closing it and placing it back on the floor. "In this packet here, I have all the things you two will need to sign: prenup, marriage license, and the contract stating that you both agree with what is being done and that no law enforcement agencies will be contacted. Also, there is an affidavit confirming that Isabella is at least eighteen year of age."_

_As she talked, she pulled out the papers and pointed them out as she named them. She handed Charlie the contract and a pen, and he signed it immediately, without reading over it, and handed it to me. I took the time to read it carefully before signing it; next came the prenup._

"_The prenup is just to ensure that if this doesn't work out, Isabella will not leave without her possessions or money to take care of her. It also states that the money given to you because of this marriage will have to be returned within six months of the marriage failing – if it fails at all," Ms. Hale explained._

_I read over the prenup and nodded to her to let her know that I understood. If the arrangement were to fail, I would be able to leave with whatever I walked into the marriage with, whatever clothes and jewelry I got during the marriage and twenty thousand dollars to ensure that I was taken care of. As Ms. Hale mentioned, the money given to my dad would have to be given back. I signed it with a shaking hand and slid it back across the table to her._

"_And the marriage license," she told me softly as she slid it over to me. "It was drawn up by a friend of ours, and its legality and legitimacy can't be disputed should any outside question it."_

_My hand trembled as I moved the pen to the dotted line. I looked up at my dad, just for one last plea, but all he did was shake his head from side-to-side. There was no backing down now. I signed my name and handed it back to her._

"_And we're done," she announced._

"_That's it?" I asked in surprise. I don't know why I thought there'd be more or it would take longer._

_Ms. Hale nodded her head. "That's it. He would like you out with him as soon as…"_

"_She'll be there within a week," Charlie said, cutting her off. "When does the money get deposited into my account?"_

"_Within a week," she said coldly. She turned to look at me, and her eyes softened. She gave me a soft, sympathetic smile. "I'll be seeing you, Isabella."_

"_Bye, Ms. Hale," I said._

_Dad stood up and walked her out, and I ran back up to my room, locking the door behind me just in case he decided to come up there and talk more about this. _

_There was nothing I wanted to say to him._

* * *

><p>"Edward," she said icily.<p>

"Mom, what in the God's name are you doing here?" he asked, sighing tiredly.

"Well, son, I was just checking my email, waiting for your dad to get home, and you know how I just love to follow the latest celebrity gossip, right?" I winced slightly when I realized where she was going with this. "And you know – much to your dad's annoyance and amusement – that I subscribe to all the magazines and even pay an extra two dollars so I can get my information before the magazine even hits the stands. How shocked do you think I was when I saw all these well-known lawyers and politicians and such gathered at La Italian tonight, and my son happened to be there with his _wife_?"

"I'd say very shocked," I whispered when she looked at me and arched her eyebrow, obviously wanting me to answer her question.

"_Very_ shocked," she agreed. "And there's footage of said wife at the Starbucks not too far from here, confirming that this lady is _indeed_ my boy's wife! And then I come over to his house, and when he gets home, she's here and with a two-karat ring on her finger."

"I imagine you were very pissed off, Mother," Edward said.

"Oh, very much so!" she cried, tears pooling into her eyes. "Why would you keep your getting married a secret from me? Did you not trust that I would be able to keep it quiet, or is this all a scam or something?"

"It's not a scam!" I snapped. My hands flew to my mouth, and my eyes widened in shock while the both of them looked at me in surprise. "I – I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you, Mrs. Cullen. It isn't a scam, I assure you. We really are married, and I am so sorry that neither of us came and told you. We were both hoping that we would be able to tell you before anyone else found out."

She excused my outburst with a nod of her head and stood up from her stool. "Is that supposed to make me feel better? That you were hoping to tell me before others found out? I mean, Emmett and Rosalie know for heaven's sake!"

"Mom…"

"Tomorrow is Sunday," Esme said, cutting off whatever her son was going to say. "We usually have the whole family over on Sundays but tomorrow it will just be the four of us: Bella, you, your dad and me."

"Mom, I don't think…"

"I know you don't think, no need to inform me," she snapped. "I raised you, didn't I?" She didn't wait for an answer. Instead, she grabbed the purse that was sitting on top of the island and headed out the kitchen and to the front door. "I expect you at our house at eight as always, Edward."

Edward and I stayed where we were for a few seconds, letting what just happened sink in, before I stepped forward and then turned to face him. "Looks like I'll be meeting the in-laws tomorrow, huh?"

He nodded. "I'm sorry about that. I was hoping the introduction would be smoother than that."

"Oh, I liked this way _much _better. Your mother hating me is _exactly_ what I wanted, Edward."

"There's no need to be sarcastic," he hissed.

I shrugged and began to walk past him, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. I raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you need something?"

"You have to forget about what happened tonight."

"Forget about what?" I asked in confusion, though I was sure I knew what he was talking about.

"You're a smart girl, Bella, don't play dumb," he growled out. "I'm talking about what happened at La Italiana. That kiss was a mistake, and we should both just forget about it."

"A mistake," I repeated. I scowled at him. "You're the one that initiated the kiss, you know."

"I know that, and I'm sorry. I regretted it as soon as I did it," he said.

I watched him walk away, a little hurt because I actually didn't regret anything.

_**~MOB~**_

Waking up the next day, I was a nervous wreck. I had dinner with the parents on the brain. Esme already seemed to not like me, but I'd say it was only because Edward and I kept our marriage secret and not because she just didn't like me.

After changing into a pair of shorts and slipping on a Hollywood Undead t-shirt, I headed downstairs and toward the kitchen. Edward was sitting at the island, once again only in a pair of basketball shorts, sweaty from his run.

I averted my eyes quickly when he turned suddenly, probably feeling my stare, and headed for the refrigerator, deciding to make some breakfast. Cynthia didn't work on weekends, and it didn't look like Edward would be cooking.

"Morning, Isabella."

"Do you want French toast and some eggs?"

"Um, no, I'm going to eat Apple Jacks…"

"Oh, that sounds good!"

I made myself some cereal and sat across from Edward, avoiding his gaze.

"Are you…upset with me?" he asked, confused.

I looked over at him with a raised eyebrow and asked, "Do I have any reason to be upset with you?"

"I don't know. You're the one acting all cold toward me," he said, on the offensive.

I rolled my eyes. "I offer to cook you breakfast and suddenly that makes me cold? I'll remember that the next time you want me to cook something for you, all right?"

I stood up to leave, but before I could get past him, he grabbed my arm, the same as he had last night. "Seriously, what the fuck did I do?"

"I'm not sure I should tell you, Edward. I surely don't want you _regretting_ having to listen to my problems," I snapped, snatching my arm from him and walking away.

Before going to bed, I had told myself I wouldn't say anything. I wasn't going to bring up his words and let on to how much they had affected me, but in the end, I couldn't help it. When I made it to my room, I put my bowl on the nightstand and fell face first on my bed, groaning.

"It hasn't even been a week, and I'm already trying to kiss all over him," I mumbled to myself.

The rest of the day went by slowly. For the most part, I stayed in my room, so I had no idea what Edward did the whole day, but I was pretty sure he gained at least five pounds, what with all the trips I heard him taking to the kitchen.

By the time I finally decided to stop sulking, I realized it was eight-ten. I sat up in a panic and rushed to the bathroom. By the time I had managed to wash, dry and curl my hair, the clock read eight-twenty, and I knew we had to leave right away.

"Bella, my parents live twenty minutes away!" Edward yelled through the door, banging on it. This had been his third trip to get me.

"Rushing me won't make me go faster!" I yelled at him. "You're just making me panic more. Go away! Go wait in the car. I'll be there in a minute."

I threw on a red dress that stopped just above my knees, slipped on some black heels and placed the top half of my hair, the part I managed to curl, into a ponytail, letting the bottom half, which was straight, fan out over my back and shoulders. I rushed down the stairs, nearly tripping as I went, and ran out to the garage, practically diving into Edward's car.

"My mother is going to kill me," he muttered, pulling out of the garage and closing it.

I snorted. "If she's killing you, then she's going to murder me. I'm the reason we're late. Crap! I forgot my purse."

"You don't have anything valuable to put in there anyway, so it's fine."

"Gee, Edward, how nice of you to say!" I hissed. "And you wonder why I'd have any reason to be upset with you, right?"

He sighed. "I didn't mean it that way. I just meant you don't have a cell phone or anything like that."

I opened my mouth to say something, but I thought better of it and just looked out the window. It was nine by the time we made it to Edward's parents' house, and I had a feeling Esme wasn't going to like me for causing us to be an hour late to her dinner.

"Are you ready to go in?" Edward asked me, parking in the driveway of their home.

The house wasn't as big as his, but it was still huge compared to what I had grown up in. Edward rang the doorbell, and at the sound of footsteps, my arm circled around his and I stood behind him slightly.

"What are you doing?" he hissed.

"I'm trying not to get murdered by the woman that's going to answer the door!"

"Those are my dad's footsteps. After years of hearing them, I'd recognize them anywhere," he explained, probably sensing my questioning gaze.

"Oh, I see now. I used to be the same way with my mom's footsteps."

The door opened just then, cutting off whatever Edward was going to say, and I stepped behind him just a little more. So far, the biggest crowd I had ever been in front of was ten thousand people. That was no problem, but the thought of meeting two new people had me suddenly terrified.

"You're an hour late," a male voice said.

I peeked from behind Edward's shoulder, and a tiny gasp escaped from between my lips. The man who I was assuming to be Edward's dad was tall, blond and beautiful. He also looked really young, maybe somewhere in his mid-thirties.

"And who's this lovely lady, hmm?" I heard him ask.

Edward moved to the side to reveal me and then took a step behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. "Dad, this is my wife, Isabella."

I found myself blushing, and I gave him a small, shy smile. "Mr. Cullen, it's…"

"Please, family calls me Carlisle. Unless you're one of my children, then I'd have to take a belt to your backside if you called me Carlisle," he said, grinning.

I snickered and took his offered hand. "Hi, Carlisle, it's nice to meet you."

"As it is you," he said. "I have to tell you honestly, I never thought I'd see my boy here settle down. It's amazing to me how he refused to have girlfriends ever and then suddenly has a wife."

"Dad…"

"I'm just sayin'. Your mother and I always thought you might have been gay and just too scared to tell us. We would have loved you…"

"Dad!" Edward yelled in disbelief. "My God, you all thought I was gay?"

I placed my hand over my mouth to keep the giggles at bay and looked between the two of them, my amusement growing as the seconds ticked by as Edward's cheeks turned redder and redder.

Carlisle shrugged. "Well, you never, ever wanted a girlfriend when you were a teenager, and then as you got older, you never wanted a girlfriend, either…"

"I had girls, but I didn't want a girlfriend! Why didn't you two just ask me? I could have cleared this up long ago and not have had this conversation in front of my _wife._"

I shook my head. "Oh, no, I'm actually glad we're getting this all cleared up now."

Edward narrowed his eyes at me, and I turned away while Carlisle laughed. "Isabella, it is so very nice to meet you. I should let you both in now before Esme gets us all."

"Let's eat," Edward agreed.

Upon entering the house, I was overcome with a sense of home. It felt like home to me. Walking down the hallway to get to the main part of the house, there were two walls worth of pictures – images of Edward, Emmett and Alice as children to ones of them grown up.

"Wow. When I first met Emmett, I didn't take him as the veterinarian type, but I can see it now. He's like a big teddy bear," I said, smiling at him with a dog he had helped.

Edward nodded and bent down a little to get a closer look as well. "Yeah. That's been his goal since he was, like, seven. I think our entire fucking family flew out for that graduation and on the day he got his job to take him to dinner. We'd never seen him grin so big or so long."

"That's nice," I said.

Edward and I straightened up at his mother calling us, and he looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "Are you ready?"

I nodded. "Does it really matter, though?"

"No."

He grabbed my hand and pulled me into his parents' dining room. The table we would be sitting at was filled with different foods, and if I didn't know better, I'd had said Thanksgiving came early there was so much. A crystal chandelier lit up the room, casting diamond shapes in random spots on the wall.

Carlisle was at the head of the table and Esme was on his right side, and they both had smiles on their faces, though Esme still looked a little upset, which was understandable.

"Isabella, we are so happy to have you here finally and you are so very welcome here," Esme told me.

I smiled. "Thank you, Mrs.…"

"Esme," she said firmly.

"Thank you, Esme."

"Let's eat," Carlisle said, staring at the food with an intensity that gave me the impression he hadn't eaten all day.

Esme laughed and after saying grace, we all dug in.

"So, how did you two meet and where?" Carlisle asked.

"We met in Las Vegas," I informed them.

Esme's eyebrows shot up at that. "Really?"

"Yes. Bella's a dancer," Edward said.

"Oh. Well, um, we don't judge in this house. You had to make ends meet somehow, right?" Carlisle asked rhetorically, nodding.

"Oh, I didn't make much money off of it. I did it all for the enjoyment. The competition was fun, too. It pushed me to work harder," I informed them.

"Did you perform a lot?" asked Esme.

I nodded. "Yeah I did. The biggest crowd I've ever performed in front of was at least ten thousand people. That was in Las Vegas where I first met Edward."

"Edward was in the crowd, then? How…coincidental," Carlisle said hesitantly, giving me a small, awkward smile.

I opened my mouth to say something to that, but Edward's sudden laughter cut me off, and we all looked at him in confusion. As he tried to calm himself, he took a sip of his Coke only to start choking on it as his laughter did not subside.

I frowned and patted his back, and he nodded at me in thanks. "Are you all right?"

He snorted. "Oh, God, you don't see it at all."

"See what?" I asked him in confusion.

"Edward, please, stop laughing and just tell us what is going on," Esme said, though it was more of a demand than a request.

"Bella was a dancer for the Port Angeles School of Arts. She was a competitive ballerina and all that shit," Edward explained to his parents. He turned to look at me with clear amusement in his eyes. "Bella, my parents think you're an exotic dancer from Las Vegas."

My eyes widened slowly as his words sunk in, and I suddenly found myself laughing just as much as he had been. "Oh, dear God; I-I guess I should have realized that mistake."

Carlisle and Esme joined in on the laughter, and it took us a few minutes to calm down, all the ice clearly broken.

"So, if you didn't meet at a club like Carlisle and I first assumed, where exactly did you two meet in Vegas?" Esme asked, looking curiously between the two of us.

"Oh, um, we met at the mall," Edward answered casually, taking a sip of his drink.

Esme snorted before covering her mouth in surprise, eyes widening a little. "Oh, excuse me. I just found it hard to believe that Edward was in a mall. We basically have to have a gun to his head to get him to go out."

I giggled at this newfound information, and Edward rolled his eyes. "I am not that difficult to take shopping. I'm just not going to pretend that I like it. Anyway it was Vegas. I was wandering around and ended up in the mall…and I tripped over Bella's shopping bags."

"Oh, Edward, babe, I'm sure your parents don't want to hear that tiring story," I said, smiling at him, though I pinched him on his thigh.

He jumped slightly. "But everyone always says it's such a cute story we might as well tell them."

"Please! I'd love to hear it," Esme said, nodding encouragingly.

Edward grinned wickedly at me, and I rolled my eyes. "Yes. He tripped over my bags, and then he yelled at me."

"I didn't yell at you!" he protested, looking horrified that I would say such a thing in front of his mother. "I just not-so kindly told her to move her fuckin' bags outta the way lest she want anyone else tripping over them and spilling their shit or breaking them."

Esme gasped, but I continued on before she could say anything. "And a few other things that weren't very nice. I offered to buy him some coffee and walked back to Starbucks then."

"Did he get your number then?" Carlisle asked.

Esme and I rolled our eyes. Men. "No, he didn't. He ended up buying both of our drinks for us. I told him that if he was going to end up buying his own drink, he should have just gone and done that in the first place instead of being an asshole and walked away," I said.

"And I chased after her and apologized. I explained to her that I had been having a bad day and hadn't meant to take it out on her. I offered to make it up to her by taking her to dinner," Edward pitched in.

"He got my number then, Carlisle," I said, giggling when I saw him about to open his mouth to ask.

He and Edward shared a fist bump then while Esme just shook her head in exasperation, but there was a smile on her face as well.

"So, Isabella…"

"Family calls me Bella," I said.

Esme grinned at me and nodded. "So, Bella, how did your parents feel about you running off to Las Vegas to get married?"

"Um." I squirmed in my seat a little, trying to recall all what Emmett and Rosalie had told me in the kitchen. I looked over at Edward for help.

He cleared his throat and took another sip of his Coke. "Well, uh, her mother didn't mind, but her dad basically hated me."

Carlisle and Esme both gasped in surprise. "And why would he hate you? Edward, what did you do?"

"Oh, no, he didn't do anything!" I assured them, remembering. "My dad just didn't like us together because Edward is four years older than me. He threatened to pull me out of my school if I continued dating Edward, but we couldn't afford it anymore anyway, so I did. We stayed in contact and met again in California. My dad was super pissed off then and made all kinds of threats." I shook my head in sadness. I didn't have those memories, but I had the memories of my dad selling me, and they brought emotions that worked here. "My mom just wanted me to be happy and follow my heart because that's the kind of woman she is, so Edward and I snuck away in the middle of the night to get married. I went home a few days later, and my dad tried to do everything he could to keep me there, but in the end he kicked me out, which was fine since I was moving here with Edward."

"Oh! You poor thing, that had to have been horrible," Esme cried, reaching across the table to grab my hand. "I'm at least happy that you had two people who loved you on your side through all of this." She smiled over at Carlisle, and he grinned back. "We had the same problem with Carlisle's family. Well, almost the same. His parents didn't like me. Rich man falls in love with poor girl, and it is Armageddon all over again."

I shook my head and snickered.. "You come from old money, don't you, Carlisle?"

"With that storyline? Of course," he said, laughing. His pager went off then and he jumped up. "I'm sorry to cut this dinner short, ladies and gentleman, but I have a patient to get to. I'll be home soon, okay?" He kissed Esme and she nodded.

"Yeah, okay." She smiled up at him.

"Patient?" I asked in confusion.

"Surgeons never sleep," Carlisle told me before rushing out.

I looked at Edward questionably, and he shook his head and opened his mouth to say something, but he was cut off by Esme.

"Bella, I couldn't help but notice that you only took a couple of bites of your dinner. Do you not like it?" she asked me, concerned.

The question caught me off guard, and I looked down at my food, t-bone steak and fettuccini Alfredo, and said the first thing that came to mind. "I made Edward and myself a really big breakfast this morning, and I'm still full from it. Edward just happens to eat like a monster."

Esme laughed loudly as she stood up to take my plate. "Oh, dear, I know exactly what you're talking about! He gets that from his dad. He, Carlisle and Emmett all eat like it's going to be their last meal or like it's been five years since they've eaten."

I chuckled. "Oh, I've seen it with my own eyes, Esme. I thought that as soon as I saw Carlisle." Esme laughed all the way to the kitchen, leaving me and Edward alone. I took a sip of my soda and refused to meet his suddenly unhappy gaze. "What?"

"Don't 'what' me, Bella. You _know_ what. You hardly touched your cereal. I don't think that can be considered making the two of us a 'big breakfast,'" he said.

I shrugged. "I just didn't want to tell her I wasn't hungry. Everybody always makes a big to-do out of it."

"Maybe because it is a big to-do!" he whispered. I turned my head to look at him, and his eyes softened. "Bella, your dad told me about…that."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "He told you about what, Edward? Don't answer that. There isn't anything to tell. I just wasn't hungry, now can you drop it?"

He had no choice but to drop it, because Esme walked into the room just then. She smiled at me. "Bella, I put your food in a container in the refrigerator. You can get it before you and Edward leave."

"Thank you, Esme. Again, I really am sorry that Edward and I didn't tell you we were getting married sooner. It all happened so fast and then…"

She shook her head, waving her hand in the air. "That doesn't matter. You are married, and I can't change that, not that I want to. I just hope that the next time something life-changing happens, I'm told before _OK!_ Magazine knows, okay?" Edward and I both nodded, and she grinned, clapping her hands lightly. "Now, Edward, why don't you give Bella a tour of the house? Show her your old room and all that while I clean up."

"Esme, I can…"

"Nonsense, you two go now. I don't have that much stuff to do."

Edward stood up and grabbed my hand, pulling me with him, and began walking out of the living room. We headed for the stairs, and I chuckled as I thought about his room. "You weren't obsessed with anime or anything when you were younger, were you?"

"Of course not," he said, sounding offended, as he opened the door. I looked between him and his room for a few minutes quietly until I could take it no longer, and the laugh I'd been trying to keep quiet escaped from between my lips in an almost maniacal way. "I don't know why you're laughing. This shit was awesome. Stop mocking me!" he complained when my laughter turned into obnoxious snorts.

"You were a Star-Lord freak," I said between snorts, taking in all his _Star Wars_ and Lord of the Rings posters, books and… "Nice dolls, Edward."

"They're action figures!" Edward snapped.

"I'm sorry. That was so uncalled for." I managed to keep a straight face for about two seconds before I was laughing again. Edward rolled his eyes and sat at his desk chair, and I fell face first on his bed. "I'm kidding, Eddie-boy. _Lord of the Rings_ was awesome, and _Star Wars_ was pretty cool. I've never seen the beginning of it."

Edward grinned at me. "We'll watch it tomorrow night. Maybe order some pizza or something."

"That would be nice," I told him honestly, smiling.

After that, Edward told me about every action figure he had, every poster and every book. He explained why certain ones were his favorites and why he should've thrown some others away a long time ago.

"Who is this?" I asked him when he finished speaking, picking up a picture of him standing with another man and a woman – both were middle-aged and the woman had the same hair color as Esme and him. "They look a lot like you…"

Edward snatched the picture out of my hand. "She's my mother. He isn't important."

"She's your mother? But Esme…"

"Obviously isn't my mother if I just said she's my mother!" he snapped. "Esme is my aunt," he whispered.

I sat on the edge of his bed and watched him quietly, seeing his face go through a number of changes before I finally spoke up. "So, um, where is she?"

"She didn't fucking abandon me if that's what you're thinking!" he shouted at me.

My hands flew up in the air in surrender. "No, no, that's not what I was thinking at all! I just want to know where she's at, Edward."

"She's with my step-dad back in Chicago. Her name is Elizabeth, and she's Esme's older sister," he explained to me.

I nodded my head. "So, the man in the picture is… your dad?"

Edward nodded and dropped the picture carelessly into his desk drawer. "He's my dad, and I would rather not talk about either of them right now. Can we move on, or are you going to ask more personal questions?"

"I'm sorry that I want to know more about you, Edward, but there's no need to attack me. You know what? I am not sorry that I want to know more about you. If we're going to be married, I think I deserve to know these things!" I hissed back. "Or maybe you're regretting 'marrying' me, too."

"God is that what you're upset about?" he asked me in disbelief. "You're the one who brought up not wanting to have sex or anything of the sort!"

I rolled my eyes. "No, I'm not upset over that."

"Then why the hell do you keep bringing it up? First you mention it at breakfast, and now you're talking about it again. Why are you stuck on that?"

I glared him. "I'm not stuck on that, Edward. I just… You… Never mind. I'm going to go help Esme clean up. Come and get me when you're ready to go." With that, I walked out of his room and rushed back down the stairs, nearly crashing into Carlisle. "Oh, I'm sorry!"

He shook his head. "It's my fault, too. We're both obviously rushing too much on these narrow stairs. So, I'm sorry as well. I forgot some things here."

"It's okay," I told him and moved out of his way so he could continue running up the stairs. When I got back to the dining room, everything was cleaned up, and as I made my way to the kitchen, I noticed everything was cleaned up there as well. Esme was just putting water in the sink to wash dishes. "I can do that."

She turned to look at me, a small smile of relief on her face. "Are you sure? I feel dead on my feet, but…"

"I'm positive. It's what I am used to anyway. After my mom would cook, I would clean up and vice versa," I told her, smiling as I took her position at the sink.

"When's the last time you talked to your mother, Bella?"

"Um, a few weeks, give or take. I know when I left we weren't exactly on speaking terms because I refused to work it out with my dad," I said.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Esme told me, sounding completely sincere.

I shrugged. "It's all right. I'll talk to her again eventually – she's my mother." We sat in silence for a while as I washed the dishes and contemplated asking Esme about her sister. I didn't see why I _couldn't _ask about her. I was sure there was a reason Edward refused to tell me more about her, but it was not like I was going to ask what that reason was. "Esme, can you, uh, tell me about Elizabeth?" When she didn't say anything for a long while, I turned around to look at her and noted the surprise on her face. "Esme? I'm sorry. I…"

She shook her head. "No, no, it's fine. I'm just surprised by the question is all. Edward hasn't told you a thing about her?"

"I didn't even know she existed until I saw a picture of her today! Apparently, there's still a lot I need to learn about Edward."

Esme nodded. "Elizabeth is my older sister. She lives back in Chicago now with Edward's step-dad. When she left, she was in a very bad place and so was Edward. Edward was always like one of ours, so we took him in immediately with open arms and no questions asked. I think anything else will have to come from Edward."

"I understand. Can you tell me what Edward was like as a kid?" I asked her, moving on to drying the dishes.

Esme grinned at me. "Edward… He was an unbelievably smart kid. He was just a little know-it-all, but he never shoved that in people's faces. You've seen his room, right? He's a big _Star Wars_ and _Lord of the Rings_ fan. He had trouble making friends, but his brother and sister saw to it that he had some, and I know he appreciated that. It was Emmett's determination to include Edward in everything that got him his best friend Jasper, who is now Alice's boyfriend and an eternal part of our family." She shook her head and chuckled. "He never had trouble with girls, surprisingly. I mean, we thought he didn't like girls at all, but it was obvious he didn't have trouble. I caught him more than once trying to… get intimate with a girl. Did you notice how squeaky his mattress was?"

At her question, I threw my head back and laughed loudly. I had noticed how squeaky his bed was. "That was you?"

She laughed, too and nodded. "I had Carlisle go out and look for the squeakiest one he could find. There would be no fooling around in my house."

I snickered. "So, Edward was a nerd that still managed to get some? That's great." Esme and I laughed and talked more about Edward and his childhood when he walked into the kitchen, eyes narrowed in suspicion as he looked between the two of us. "Hi, Edward."

"What's so funny?" he asked.

I snorted. "Why are you looking at us like we're planning world domination? Esme and I were only talking about this cute, furry little thing named Mr. Fluffykins. She was just telling me how she was sure it was still up in your closet somewhere and that she'd go get it for me."

Edward's eyes widened in horror, and he looked over at his mother in disbelief; he looked as if she had betrayed him in some way. "Mom…"

"What? I already explained to Bella that it was perfectly normal for a fifteen-year-old boy to have a stuffed animal. The fact that it was a unicorn is a little weird, but no one thinks any less of you! Certainly not us, at least," she said, trying to stop her own giggles from surfacing.

"Ma!" he complained, and his Chicago accent was suddenly very noticeable and thick. "You really just said that!"

"Edward, we don't judge in this household," I said in a mock-serious voice. "You're no longer the scary business man you once were, but we're certainly not judging. If you want to be a fifteen-year-old boy with a stuffed unicorn, be my guest! If you want to dress up as Princess Leia for prom because you so foolishly thought it was a costume party, more power to you!"

"You didn't!" Edward yelled.

Esme threw her hands over her mouth to keep from laughing, but that seemed to only make her laugh louder. She shook her head. "I-I d-didn't. S-she s-saw the p-pictures," she stuttered out between laughs.

I held onto the counter and clutched at my stomach as I went down, laying my head on my knees as I laughed just as hard as Esme. The information I had, plus the look on Edward's face was priceless.

"Gah! You showed her the picture?" he screamed. Esme and I both looked up in time to see his cheeks turning a tomato red, which started up the laughter ever more. Edward groaned and covered his face with his hands. "Ah! Stop it, stop it now!" He stormed out then, causing even more laughter from the two of us.

_**~MOB~**_

The ride home was silent, save for the soft purr of Edward's car, and a small smile graced my lips the entire way. When the garage door closed after we pulled in, the two of us sat there for a moment. After a good five minutes of silence, I made to get out the car when Edward's hand wrapped around my wrist.

I turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. "What's up?"

"I'm sorry for, uh, hurting your feelings yesterday," he mumbled.

I snorted. "You didn't. I just couldn't understand why you were snapping at me when you were the one that kissed me."

"Still, I'm sorry. It would do you good to accept my apology. I don't do it often."

I rolled my eyes and snatched my arm away from him. "That information is duly noted, Edward. Thanks."

"My dad," he called out to me before I could slam the door shut. "He used to, uh, hurt my mom. That's why I didn't want to talk about them."

"Where's your dad now?"

"Dead."

"Oh." I bit my bottom lip and looked down, fidgeting with my hands. I didn't know what to say to that.

"Yeah."

Edward got out of the car then, and we headed into the house. "That's Edward Cullen for you: nerd, abuse victim, cross dresser and a stuffed animal lover."


	6. Chapter 6: Getting Somewhere

Chapter Six: Getting somewhere

**A/N: Sorry this is about a month or two overdue. I went on a hiatus to get my mind (this story) order. I was really losing my way with this, but I have found it again, and it feels so good to be back! I'd like to thank my betas, Mel and Katy, because this story wouldn't be much without them! Thank you, lovelies :)**

The next day, my mind was still spinning from the small amount of information Edward had given me of his past. At first, I was sure I hadn't heard right, but I knew by the look on his face I had. I asked him to elaborate, but of course he didn't, so I went to bed, unable to sleep because I was too busy thinking. When I made my way to kitchen to make breakfast, Edward was already down there, drinking a cup of coffee.

"Do you plan on ignoring me forever?" I asked him when, after five minutes, he still hadn't said anything to me.

"Good morning, Isabella."

I scowled at him. "I just want you to know that last night doesn't change anything. I don't think any differently…"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, cutting me off.

My scowl deepened. "So now you're just going to pretend you didn't tell me that you were abused as a child?" He didn't say anything, and I very nearly growled in frustration. "Edward! You can't just ignore me when something serious like that is said. I'm your wife; I think I should know about these things!"

"You're a girl that I bought from a broke, dead-beat daddy—meaning you're the furthest thing from a wife. In reality, you're basically just a prostitute without the sex. I shouldn't have to give any more than I already have."

I sucked in a deep breath of surprise and closed my eyes, trying to fight the tears, but I knew it was inevitable. They were coming. There was a moment of silence before I heard him move toward me, causing me to take a step back automatically. I opened my eyes and glared at him. "You should probably leave before you're late for work," I said before he could voice whatever he was going to say.

Edward nodded before turning on his heel and walking out.

_**~MOB~**_

"Honestly, Bella, I'm surprised he told you that much, and it wasn't even much at all," Rosalie said, putting her feet under her as she sat down on the couch, passing the bowl of popcorn she made to me after grabbing a handful of it. "Edward isn't very big on sharing his past."

I nodded and sighed. That much was obvious. "I know, but I didn't expect him to completely ignore me. I didn't expect him to go and insult me the way he did."

After Edward left, I hung around with Cynthia for a while, helping her here and there, before Rosalie called saying she had good news that just couldn't wait. When I arrived at her condo, which was in the heart of downtown Seattle, the first thing I noticed was what was on the TV. It was then announced that I won the bet—_How I Met Your Mother_ hooked Rose from the very first episode. I grinned. Emmett wasn't going to know what hit him, no pun intended.

Rose noticed something was wrong almost immediately and quickly demanded that I "tell her everything," after having Emmett leave. "It just isn't fair that he's taking his anger out on me, especially since he _willingly_ told me. I didn't force it out of him."

She nodded. "Edward's complicated. He'll come around eventually. You two will find a way to work this out."

I could wait for him to come around; I could understand why he didn't want to talk about it just yet to some stranger. "Maybe I did push him a bit. I'll wait it out." Before Rosalie could respond, I sat up and leveled her with a serious stare. "What can _you_ tell me?"

"I don't know…"

"Esme mentioned a stepdad."

"Yeah, Billy. He's really nice. Has a son the same age as Edward. Really loves Elizabeth, so that's about the only reason why Edward likes him," she told me. "I honestly don't know what else I can tell you other than that. You're my friend now, but Edward is my best friend, so I have to respect his privacy."

I smiled. "I know. I get that. I'm just trying to understand, so I can find a way to talk to Edward."

"Edward is the type of person who will not listen to you if you're not important, for lack of a better word, enough to him. He will walk all over you. He just…doesn't take it easy on anyone, and he doesn't believe in bullshiting anyone, either. It's why he's such a good lawyer. If you want him to listen to you, if you want him to see you as an equal, be firm. Don't let him think he's the only one with control."

_**~MOB~**_

"I don't care about how much fucking money you spent or make, how well-known you are, or the people you hang out with, you are_ not_ allowed to use me as your goddamned punching bag just because you're angry!" I hissed, fed up with his talking down to me the way he did. "I'm trying to make things work here! I'm just trying to get everything taken care of. I want to make sure _I'm_ taken care of."

Trying to have some control in the situation Edward and I found ourselves in, as Rosalie had suggested, didn't go too well. Edward didn't appreciate me "storming" into his office "demanding his attention like I own the place." He didn't like a "teeny bopper" trying to control anything. He didn't like anyone standing up to him.

"Am I suddenly incapable of taking care of you?" Edward asked, as calm as ever; however, the vein popping out slightly from the side of his forehead gave him away.

"You've always been incapable of taking care of me, Edward. You're _incapable_ of taking care of yourself," I snapped, my voice raising an octave. "I'm not sure that you're capable of anything."

He glared. "I've already told you once that I don't appreciate being yelled at in my own office, especially by some irresponsible brat who just barely moved out of her parents' house."

It was my turn to glare. "Says the 'man' that wanted the 'irresponsible brat' as his wife and still has his nanny picking out his clothes for him every morning. Yeah, Cynthia let slip that she still picks out your clothes for you. I can't believe you're calling me a child when you're the one that can't have a conversation with a person without belittling them and asserting control. News flash, Edward, you aren't as powerful as you seem to think."

That was what our argument had come to the minute Edward opened his mouth for the first time. He had a sense of self-righteousness that came from believing he was better than everyone.

"Isabella," he began, "I'm more powerful than you seem to realize, but that's neither here nor there. You seem to think we are equal, but I'm afraid to say we are not, and we never will be. You are only here to be seen as my wife. A prop, if you like technicalities. You _will_ be taken care of, everything that needs to be taken care of is, and if you behave, this _will_ work."

I shook my head. I'd had enough. There seemed to be no compromising with him. "Edward, I came in here to have a civilized conversation with you, tried not to behave like the child you see me as, with the mindset that this was going to work out, like _we_ were going to work out, but we're not. I don't like being owned, and you don't like listening to anyone but yourself. You would rather put me down and talk about my feelings instead of trying to understand me. You would rather sit here and argue instead of realizing that maybe for once in your life there's something you can't have complete control over. You would rather hurt me when I've done nothing to you other than try to compromise our way to something that would make this arrangement less stressful."

"Look…" he started, trailing off when I stood up from the chair that was in front of his desk, grabbing my purse from the one next to me.

"I want a divorce. I want a divorce, or whatever you want to call it, and I want it now. My family and I are just going to have to find another way to pay off my father's debt because I need out of this _sham_ of a marriage _now_—today, if you can."

I turned around to leave, and I was sure my heart stopped beating for two seconds as I came face-to-face with James—my being in heels making that easy. "I'm sorry! I wasn't aware that you were standing there," I said, taking a few steps back. I looked over my shoulder to see Edward frowning, but I quickly turned back as I saw James take a step closer to me in my peripheral vision.

"It's okay. I need to learn to make my presence more well-known," James replied, chuckling. "Isabella, wasn't it?" I nodded. He grinned, took my hand, and kissed it, causing a shiver to go down my spine, which he noted and smirked at. "Pleasure seeing you again, Mrs. Cullen."

I nodded and took my hand back quickly, turning to look at Edward again so I didn't have to acknowledge him anymore. "Bye, Edward. I'll see you at home," I muttered before turning, sidestepping James, and leaving quickly. As I walked out of the door, I looked back in his office through the clear wall and saw James staring at me and Edward glaring at him, and rushed out of his sight. Ever since the first night I met him, he had given me the creeps, and I didn't like being around him for longer than was absolutely necessary.

* * *

><p>When I got back to the house after spending a day walking around aimlessly, Cynthia was already gone for the day, and I realized just how alone I really was. I didn't have any friends, my parents no longer wanted me, and the guy that bought me couldn't even stand me.<p>

I had never felt so worthless in my life.

That was how I found myself re-cleaning the entire house again four hours later. It helped take my mind off of everything that was going on for a while. After that was done and there was absolutely nothing else to clean, I went to the basement, and I worked out. It was what I was used to. It made me feel better. I felt like I was home again, working out at the Forks gym, anxiously awaiting the next time I got to dance. That was all I did back there. Workout. Dance. Sleep. Repeat.

I shrieked as Alice's face was suddenly in my line of vision and pulled out the emergency stopper on the treadmill before I ended up falling off. "Alice, what are you doing here?" I asked, my breathing heavy as I downed my bottle of water.

"Edward called me earlier and told me to check-up on you, said you seemed upset, but I couldn't then, so I'm here now," she answered. "I didn't take you as the working-out type."

I laughed, but it wasn't a happy kind of laugh. "Uh, yeah. I haven't in a while, though."

"I guess it's true what they say: once you're married, you can get fat," Alice joked, laughing a tinkling laugh, though the way she was looking at me was a little too sweet and kind. She was back to not liking me. When my eyes narrowed, I noticed her lips lift up slightly on the corner, but she didn't comment on it and neither did I. "How long did you walk for?"

I grabbed my towel and wiped the sweat off my face, sighing. "I ran for about two hours, I think. I would have kept going, but I was interrupted…"

"Right. You're, like, obsessed with exercising or something like that," she said.

"Look, Alice, upset is an understatement, okay? You've checked up on me; obviously I'm fine. You can go now," I told her, not wanting to put up with her snide comments, either. One angry Cullen was all I could deal with.

She stepped as close as she could to me without having to look all the way up and folded her arms, narrowing her eyes. "_Look_, Bella," she started, all the sweetness gone from her voice, "Edward is my brother, and I care about him. He's been through too much already in his life to get hurt again by some girl who probably only sees dollar signs."

I laughed; I couldn't help it. The irony was not lost on me. "You have absolutely no idea what is going on."

"I know you don't love my brother, Bella. I know you aren't as good for him as everyone seems to think because of that. He's told me more about you than you seem to think he ever would, which is how I know you're no good for him."

I opened my mouth to respond to her words, but I decided against it. I was going to be done with Alice _and_ her brother, so it didn't really matter to me what he told her. "Alice, I think you should leave. You should leave and not come back until Edward tells you the coast is clear, all right?"

I didn't let her respond. Instead, I walked out and practically ran back up the stairs, needing to shower and pack.

I wasn't planning on staying any longer than I had to.

_**~MOB~ **_

When Edward got home, I had already set his place at the table. I figured I could at least give him one more meal before I left.

"Bella," he said, a hint of surprise in his voice and flickering over his face. "You're still here."

I nodded. "Where else could I have gone? This is my home right now. Please, sit down. We need to talk."

"Yeah," he muttered, sitting down at the table. I sat across from him, and instead of digging into his food like I assumed he would, he leaned back in his chair and stared at me for a moment, frowning slightly. "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I said, 'I'm sorry,'" he repeated.

I rolled my eyes. "No, I know what you said; I just…wasn't expecting that. Anyway, about this divorce: how do you want to go about doing it?"

"I don't want to go about it," he informed me, popping a piece of broccoli into his mouth. "I'm sorry. Really. I know I'm not acting nicely toward you at all, and you don't deserve that. You're right—I don't deserve to take my anger out on you. I want to make this work, Bella. I_ need_ to make this work."

"Why?" I asked him, raising a brow in question. He looked sincere enough, and for some reason, I could feel myself slowly giving in.

He sighed and leaned forward, resting his chin on his elbow. "I have my reasons, but just know I'm being serious. I want you to stay."

"Your mood swings are seriously starting to give me whiplash, you know," I mumbled, looking down briefly before staring back up at him. "I've always believed in people deserving second chances."

Edward grinned. "This mean you're staying?"

"I will, but you can't talk to me any kind of way you want, and you can't talk about my family, understand?" I told him firmly.

"You got it."

He began to eat then, and I allowed myself a grin as well. It looked as if we were finally getting somewhere.


	7. Chapter 7: Nineteen

**_A/N:_**I thought I would have had this up sooner! I'm sorry I didn't. Between school and mental disorders, it was very difficult for me to focus on just one thing at a time, which means I couldn't force myself to sit down and write the way I needed to. But alas, the next chapter is here! The next chapter after this is already written and with my beta. It actually shouldn't take that one lone to come :). Thank you to all who are still here, all who just came, and all who will continue to come.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or anything dealing with the series. That all belongs to SM.**

Note: This one is definitely a favorite chapter of mine so far. The drama is truly starting to unfold now! Slowly, though.

* * *

><p>RECAP:<p>

_"I've always believed in people deserving second chances."_

_Edward grinned. "This mean you're staying?"_

_"I will, but you can't talk to me any kind of way you want, and you can't talk about my family, understand?" I told him firmly._

_"You got it."_

_He began to eat then, and I allowed myself a grin as well. It looked as if we were finally getting somewhere._

**Chapter Seven: Nineteen**

The days that followed our truce were fine for lack of a better word. Edward…well, he was trying. We weren't suddenly best friends, but we argued less. Sort of. At least, he wasn't blaming me for every little thing that went wrong, and I wasn't threatening to leave every second anymore. It was progress, and I was happy with it. However, along with this new set-up came feelings I didn't want to have for him. Whenever we were having an especially good day, I remembered our first kiss that really shouldn't have happened, and I got so lost in it. Edward knew it, too; I was convinced. He was always smirking at me every time I'd come back down to earth. Cocky son-of-a-bitch that man was. Soon, a month had passed, and things were still going really well. I was extremely hopeful for the rest of our days to come.

Fingers snapping in front of my face brought me out of my thoughts, and I scowled at said man and pushed his hand away. "What?"

He smirked, and his eyes were sparkling with mischief; I knew today was a good one for us. "Where were you just now?"

"Jail. For murdering you," I answered. "I was trying to decide if it would be worth it."

"And?"

I shrugged. "It was." He rolled his eyes and sat across from me with the breakfast I'd made him on the table in front of him. I chuckled. "No, I was just thinking about how nice these past few days have been. I'm glad—well, not glad, per se; I'm still not especially happy about our situation—but fine, I guess, with the fact that we could make things work," I explained. Even with everything going so well, I still couldn't bring myself to be okay with this whole thing. No one in their right mind would be. My dad _sold_ me, and my mother didn't care enough to see me off—to talk to me. I wasn't sure I could ever get over that.

"Me too," Edward replied. He grinned suddenly and stood up, grabbed a Target bag off the top of the refrigerator, and handed it to me when he sat back down. "Happy Birthday, Bella."

I groaned and shook my head, not wanting to think about that. Ever. Birthdays were never happy events growing up. "I told you not to remind me. I told you to not even say that to me."

Edward laughed and grinned wider. I scowled. "Birthdays are important to my family and me, Bella. Especially to me. I was never sure if the next one was going to be my last," he explained, and my scowl deepened.

We hadn't properly discussed his past yet, but he seemed happy to bring it up whenever it benefited him, using it to guilt trip me. "First, stop doing that. You know I hate it. You can't just…do that," I said seriously. "Second…fine. You win, again. Thank you, Edward." I gave him the fakest smile known to man and took my gift.

"You're welcome, Bella. It's not every day a person turns nineteen, you know."

"Technically, it is."

"You know what I meant."

I shrugged. "Sure." I looked through my bag, finding my favorite candy of the moment—Skittles—and a cute card. "I'm touched…what was that?" I asked. He'd mumbled something that sounded a lot like "not yet," but I was sure I was wrong. Even still, I blushed and looked away. I shouldn't have, though. I was a bit used to it by now; a nice Edward was a flirtatious Edward.

"Nothing. I have to get to work. You just relax and have a good day," he said softly with a smile, being uncharacteristically sweet at that moment, even for our new arrangement. "When I get home, we're going out to dinner. We're going to celebrate properly."

"Edward," I replied warningly, suspicious of this "dinner." He'd been trying to get me to agree to a party for the longest. The way he just let it go after countless times of nagging didn't sit well with me.

"Bella," was his response, giving me a nod of acknowledgement before walking out.

"You better not have done what I think you've done, Edward Cullen!" I yelled after him.

I finished my breakfast and then cleaned up the kitchen, smiling the whole time. If I were going to be honest with myself, I'd admit that I was actually excited for tonight. The last time I had a party, I was turning four years old and still wanted to be a princess—Daddy's little girl.

* * *

><p>"Come on, Bella. Stop being such a Debbie Downer! You're turning nineteen, for Heaven's sake!" Rosalie said, shaking me slightly as if proving a point.<p>

I gave her the best smile I could muster, but it wasn't much. I doubt I even smiled. It was more of a grimace, really. After Edward left and I finished cleaning the kitchen, things seemed to have really caught up with me. Memory after memory of past birthdays kept playing over and over in my head until I found myself crouched in the corner, hyperventilating and trying to calm myself down from a panic attack. I eventually managed to get myself under control, but I couldn't get back the happiness I'd been feeling earlier in the kitchen with Edward.

Rosalie, Cynthia, and Emmett came over a few hours later. I was doing my hardest to grin, be happy, and appear in the mood to celebrate, but as the time went on, it got harder and harder.

"Sorry, Rose. Everybody. I'm just…really tired," I finished lamely, shrugging. I shook my head slightly to clear itand circled my shoulders to loosen up before smiling at them. "Yeah, just tired. Thank you all, though."

Cynthia and Rosalie grinned at me and continued to tell me about all the things they had planned for the day. I listened, somewhat—too distracted by the overly concerned look Emmett was giving me. As he continued to stare at me, I could feel myself slowly starting to become annoyed. He knew something. He knew something because Edward knew something. At least, I was sure he knew something because he'd been looking at me the same way lately. In fact, I knew he knew something because Alice told me he'd told her more things than I would think he would have.

And then I wasn't annoyed; I was angry. I was angry because a past that I didn't even talk about—didn't even _think_ about—was being discussed amongst people I hardly knew.

With that thought, everything caught up with me. I mean, absolutely everything. I realized I liked these people, some of them, anyway, but I didn't _know_ these people. I didn't know them at all, and yet I was celebrating my nineteenth birthday with them. I was married to one of them. I was _hated_ by one of them, and I didn't even _know_ them.

They all sensed the change in me almost immediately. "Bella, what's wrong?" Cynthia asked me as I began to walk away from them.

I turned back around to stare at them in disbelief, unable to understand why they were the ones confused. "What's wrong? What do you mean what's wrong? _Everything_ is wrong. Every. Single. Fucking. _Thing_ is completely wrong. It's my birthday!" I yelled, a hysterical laugh escaping me. "It's my birthday, and I'm celebrating with people I don't know! I don't_ know_ you people! _That's_ what's wrong. Nothing could ever be possibly right with this whole entire picture. How can you all not see that?"

A loud, horrifying sob bubbled out of me, and I walked away from them before I lost myself completely, making it to my room right as my control slipped away.

I fell to the ground with a soft thud and just lay there, weeping for hours on end. I thought it would never stop.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that I was sold. It wasn't fair that all the birthday memories I had were bad ones. It wasn't fair that I was here instead of back in Forks with my family where I belonged, where I suddenly wanted to be.

None of it was fair.

_**~MOB~**_

"You're drunk."

A snort was my smart reply.

"Bella, this isn't funny."

He was upset. This wasn't surprising.

_He _was always upset with me.

"Isabella!"

He was concerned now.

A small squeak of surprise left me as I suddenly fell off the bar stool I was sitting on, having leaned back too far. I hit the floor with a soft "oomph" and frowned, slightly in pain. The frown didn't last long, though. One look at Edward, and I was cracking up, covering my mouth with both hands to keep quiet so he wouldn't find out.

"This isn't funny," he repeated.

I don't think it was working.

"…Not even a little bit?" I questioned, another fit of giggles leaving me. "I think it is. Just a little, Eddie."

Edward scowled. "Don't call me that."

"Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Edd—"

I gasped as I was suddenly lifted off the ground quickly and roughly, but that gasp quickly turned into a sigh of amazement as it felt like I was flying for a moment. I wasn't. Edward placed me back on the stool, but then he took me to the couch instead, figuring I couldn't fall off of that, I guessed.

I giggled. "Eddie."

"What happened?" he asked me, ignoring my name-calling and leveling me with a serious look. Play time was over.

Honestly, I couldn't remember. Everything was lost to me. I could remember wanting to forget, though. I could remember breaking into Edward's liquor cabinet, too. I cut my finger on the glass trying to pick it up.

"Well, um…wow, your eyes are pretty," I mumbled, distracted.

He was so close, and I was drunk; it was a match made in Heaven.

Edward sighed. "Emmett called me and told me some of what happened. Can you tell me what caused it?"

_Caused_ _what_? I'd wanted to ask.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" I asked instead.

He frowned. "Bella…"

"Well, do you?" I asked again, becoming impatient. I didn't wait for an answer. Instead, I slipped off the couch and sat on the floor with him. "I find you very handsome, Edward. More handsome than, say, Robert Pattinson," I told him. He opened his mouth to say something, but I pulled him in for a kiss before he could.

He sucked in a deep breath of surprise, and I could feel him trying to push me away, but I stayed firm and kept kissing him until he eventually kissed back. I guessed he found me pretty. After a while, when we needed to breathe, I pulled away and pushed on his shoulders until he fell on his back, and then I straddled his hips.

"Have sex with me, Eddie," I murmured, being as seductive as possible.

I smirked and leaned in to kiss him, but suddenly I was on my back, and Edward was between my legs, kissing me hard and rubbing himself against me. I groaned into our kiss, wrapped my legs around his hips loosely, and tangled my fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to me.

"We can't do this," he said unexpectedly, abruptly pulling away from me.

I sat up to look at him, panting heavily and pouting, probably trying too hard to be cute. "Why not?"

"Because we can't," he said.

"But it's my birthday," I whined. "This is what I get for my birthday."

Edward nodded. His face had gradually been growing serious by the second, and now I was becoming confused. "I know what you get for your birthday, Bella," he commented somberly.

I shook my head vigorously. The way he was starting to look at me, the way he answered me. I didn't like where this was going.

"I need to know what's happened," he said.

He was being a hypocrite, and I was going to be sick.

"I think we should talk about your dad." The words came out in a whisper, and the look on his face gave me the impression that he knew much more than I would have liked-that I didn't have to talk about _him_ because Edward already knew everything. "I know you're drunk, but now is as good as time as any to..."

I shook my head vehemently in protest, completely against that idea, and then I threw up.

_**~MOB~ **_

Waking up the next morning wasn't pleasant. At all. My head hurt, my throat hurt, my mouth was dry, and my hair looked worse than a bird's nest. I couldn't even describe the taste in my mouth, but it made me want to die.

"Good, you're up," were the first words out of Cynthia's mouth when she walked into my room.

"No I'm not," I replied, nearly gagging. My mouth tasted _really_ bad. Cynthia chuckled quietly and sat at the edge of my bed, holding salvation in her hands—a glass of water and two aspirins. "How did I get here, anyway?" I asked. Last night was such a blur. From the look on Cynthia's face, I wasn't sure I actually wanted an answer.

"Edward brought you here after you passed out," she explained.

I frowned in confusion, trying to ignore the throbbing in my head as I struggled to recall all of the events from the previous night. I remembered drinking. A lot. Yes, there was a lot of drinking, and there was a lot of crying. I remembered Cynthia, Rosalie, and Emmett coming over.

"Oh, God," I groaned, letting my head fall into my hands. Everything was coming back in quick succession, then. How I completely lost my shit and freaked out on everybody. My dad calling…I groaned again. "I'm so sorry. What I said yesterday, I…"

Cynthia shook her head and waved her hands in the air, clearing it. "It's all water under the bridge now, dear. Honestly, I expected something like this to happen. I mean, I would have done the same thing. I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner. And really, it made all of us realize just how wrong we were handling this—how utterly wrong this whole situation is, really. We're all going to try our hardest to make this work right."

I nodded. I appreciated that greatly. I was still sorry, though; I'd gotten to know them all well enough to not need to blow up like that.

After taking my aspirin, I talked with Cynthia for a little while longer before excusing myself to use the bathroom; it—my breath—was starting to become unbearable. I also just needed a long, hot shower.

When I got downstairs, I wasn't all too surprised to find Edward in the kitchen, dressed up and ready to head out the door for work at any minute. He was waiting for me. "Good morning, Bella."

I nodded in acknowledgement and headed over to the microwave where Cynthia had put my plate for me, unable to look at him. "Edward."

To say I was embarrassed by what I'd done the night before would be an understatement—I was mortified.

"Can we talk about last night?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Look, Edward, I appreciate you taking care of me last night when I got sick, but let's not bring it up anymore, okay? Let's just...let it go."

He didn't let it go, though. Instead, he continued to push me on it until I snapped.

"Tell me about Edward Sr.," I demanded, turning around to face him then so I could glare at him. "Tell me about Elizabeth, too, while you're at it. Tell me all about how he hit you and your mother. Let me hear it, Edward."

He opened and closed his mouth a few times before glaring back at me and saying, "I'm only trying to help."

"If I wanted or needed your help, I would have asked," I retorted.

He glared harder. "Fine."

"Fine."

He walked out of the kitchen then without another word, slamming the door in his wake as he left for work.

So far, _nineteen_ wasn't that great.

* * *

><p>"Get dressed," Edward commanded.<p>

After Edward left, I finished eating and then spent the rest of the day with Cynthia, helping her run her errands and just hanging out. It was actually pretty fun. I tried calling Rosalie and Emmett, but they didn't answer, and I was worried, convinced they were upset with me, though Cynthia tried to tell me otherwise. "They're just busy," she had said. I spent a lot of time thinking about Edward, too. Our little "fight" that morning in the kitchen was ridiculous and shouldn't have happened. We both behaved liked scolded children. I had been planning on apologizing and explaining to him that I didn't want to relive the day before until he came barging into my room like he owned the place—which he did, truthfully.

"Why?"

"Just get dressed," he barked before walking out of the room, slamming the door pretty hard behind him.

I huffed in annoyance and looked down at the pajamas I had climbed back in to. After a short while of contemplating, I decided to get dressed. However, I didn't dress to impress. I changed into my The Doors t-shirt, red jean shorts, and my black Converse, pulling my hair up into a ponytail as I couldn't be bothered to do it.

When I got downstairs, Edward looked me over once before nodding. "That works," he approved. He'd changed into a red, plaid button up and some dark jeans. I scowled, and he chuckled, all signs of his bad mood from just two minutes ago gone. "Careful, your immaturity is showing." My scowl deepened, and he chuckled again. "Come on, we're going to be late. All you need is your phone and some cash."

"I'm an adult, Edward. You can't just tell me what to do and expect me to do it. You can't just take me somewhere and not tell me where."

"You weren't acting like an adult the other day," he commented.

"You were sure treating me like one," I snapped. I covered my mouth in shock as soon as it was out and blushed scarlet. I wasn't going to mention anything about that, but I didn't want to let him get away with calling me a child once again. It was getting tiresome.

We didn't say anything for the longest moment, just stared at each other for a while before he cleared his throat and said, "I'm just making up for last night."

"Meaning?" I inquired impatiently, not knowing where he was going with this. I shook my head. "No, you know what, never mind. I don't really want to know. I'm not going anywhere with you."

He sighed. "I'm just trying to give you the party you missed out on yesterday, Bella."

"What party? I thought I told you not to throw me a party, Edward Cullen. Anyway, I'm still not going anywhere with you. I don't want to. And after last night, I realized that this just isn't going to work out _at all_. I can't stay here. I don't want to. I need to go home. Now. Today."

And back to square one we went.

"Look, I could have easily been a dick about this whole situation…"

"I'll bake you a cookie," I replied sarcastically. "Because you're obviously looking for an award with that comment."

He continued as if I hadn't said anything. "But I wasn't, and I'm still not. I'm just trying to get you to the birthday party you should have had yesterday, okay?"

"No, not okay. I need…"

Edward rolled his eyes and huffed, a vein on the side of his forehead popping out in his irritation, nostrils flaring slightly. "Grab the things I mentioned and get in the fucking car. Jesus, stop making things so goddamned difficult, will you?"

"Fine," was my great response.

"Fine!"

* * *

><p>The car ride was silent. It wasn't awkward, but it definitely wasn't friendly, either. There was also a hint of tension, but that was easily ignored by turning the radio on.<p>

"I'd rented out Kiss, an upscale club known for its great party hosting, but this is all you get since you decided to skip out," Edward said as we pulled up to a nice park…in the neighborhood we lived in.

"This is fine," I mumbled, stepping out of the car.

As we began to walk toward the sitting area, I smiled when I spotted everyone I'd met and made friends with so far: Emmett, Rosalie, Cynthia, Sam, Paul, Emily, Rachel, Embry, Carlisle, Esme, and even Alice. Emmett pulled me in for a big bear hug, and I laughed and hugged him back. I was passed on to Rosalie and then Cynthia, and all seemed to be forgotten, the others none the wiser to what had happened.

"Happy Birthday, Bella!" they all, save for Alice, yelled together.

"Thank you!" I laughed and grinned from ear to ear, not minding this set up one bit.

After that, Rosalie turned up the music, and the party really got started. We played all the board games that were brought and then possibly every other outside-appropriate game known to man before we all got a bit carried away, running toward the playground and pushing past kids to play on it and on the swings. In that moment, I wouldn't have minded if Edward called me a child; we were all just kids who grew up way too fast, I guessed, and we were going to make the best of this party at the park. Alice even managed to stop sulking in the corner and joined everyone.

Things calmed down some when Paul, who had been managing the grill, called us over for lunch; the music was turned down and everyone broke off into their own little groups, talking quietly amongst themselves, the atmosphere still vibrant, though.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but have either of you seen Edward?" I asked Carlisle and Esme, walking up to them after I had finished eating. They were in their picnic chairs, leaning in closely to each other and speaking quietly. "It's just that I haven't seen him in a while."

Esme smiled up at me, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, dear, but I haven't. I'm sure he hasn't wandered off too far, though."

I nodded. "Thank you. I'm gonna go look for him." I gave them a smile and turned to leave so they could continue on with their conversation.

"Oh, Bella," Carlisle called before I could walk too far. I turned back to face him. "Edward told us you were going through a hard time yesterday, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay." I nodded. "Good. Just know you can come to me—Esme, too—if you need to talk. We're good listeners."

"That's right. You're family now, sweetheart. Don't think you can't come to us, or that we'll judge you, or anything like that. We care about you as if you were our own," Esme jumped in, smiling.

I hadn't seen much of them since the dinner at their house, so busy trying to get things with Edward settled, but I definitely liked them, and their words touched me. I grinned. "Thank you. That means a lot to me."

We said our goodbyes, and I walked off to find Edward, eventually finding him a little ways away from the sitting area, slouched comfortably on a park bench, legs spread, arm thrown over the back of it, and sipping on a beer. I stopped for a moment to take him all in, sighing quietly as I looked him over. There was no denying the man was attractive—more attractive than any other man I'd ever met—and it was a little sad that I would never be able to bring myself to feel more for him. I couldn't.

When he spotted me, he grinned his crooked smile and beckoned me forward. I chuckled and walked the rest of the way toward him, folding my legs under me as I sat down next to him. His hand reached out and grabbed hold of my knee, and he squeezed it softly—a quiet, little greeting. We stayed like that for a while, this silence comfortable and relaxing.

"Weather's perfect for a barbeque," I muttered. Edward looked over at me with an eyebrow raised, as if asking if that was all I could come up with. I nodded. That was horrible. "Edward, about last night…"

He shook his head. "Don't mention it, Bella. Really, it's over with."

"But…"

"Honestly, I think I—_we_—should just mind our own business. Going over old things is just completely unnecessary. It's not why we're here, and it's not going to help our situation any, right?" he said, turning those piercing green eyes on me in full force.

I understood his words, what he meant, but I couldn't understand what spurred them on—what was bringing us back to this "business only" aspect of our relationship. And then I remembered I threatened to leave again earlier today.

I groaned. "Ugh, I'm sorry. I did it again. I honestly…"

"It wasn't that," Edward assured me. "I'm just realizing that we can still keep our personal lives personal."

I nodded. "Fine."

"Fine." After only a few seconds, we burst out laughing, our antics beyond ridiculous now.

I chuckled. "We have to stop doing that, I think." Edward nodded in agreement. "But, yeah, okay. We can do that. Keep our personal lives personal. Shouldn't be too hard."

Edward looked at me with a peculiar expression on his face for a second before nodding as well. "Good."

"Great."

He leveled me with a look. "Bella."

"Friends?" I asked, holding my hand out for him to shake.

"Friends," he answered, chuckling and taking my hand. "We shouldn't have to make up like this every day, you know."

I shrugged. "If you stopped arguing with me, we wouldn't have to."

Edward opened his mouth to say something, but he seemed to think better of it as he just shook his head and snickered. "Happy Birthday, Bella," he murmured, handing over his beer to me. "Enjoy."

I took a sip, smirked, and replied, "I shall."

In all honesty, _nineteen_ wasn't looking so bad.


	8. Chapter 8: The Story So Far, pt 1

**A|N: I was sure this would have been up sooner, but I only just got it back yesterday from one of my beta's. RL has gotten to the both of them it seems. Any mistakes left are mine and will be looked over again shortly.**

**Note: Edward's POV**

_NOTE (WARNING!): This chapter contains a small lemon scene. If that doesn't suit your fancy, I suggest you skip over it. More importantly, this chapter contains a forced sexual behavior. If you feel you can't stomach that or it's a trigger for you,** PLEASE SKIP IT!** I don't want to send you anywhere you'd rather not return to.._

_Chapter Eight: The Story So Far, pt. 1_

* * *

><p><em>I never liked the way people looked at me, with a great deal of pity in their eyes. I don't think anyone outside of my family ever knew the specifics of what was going on, but it didn't take a genius to figure out that at home were not all right. No, I didn't like it; I <em>_**hated**__ it. What I needed was for them to save me, not pity me and tell me things would get better. I never complained or asked for help, though. How could I when my mother had much worse than I did? Sure, he hit me, but what he would do to her was much worse than I liked to remember. Luckily for me, Aunt Esme was always there to comfort me and make me forget, even if only for a little while. _

_Things got better for me as I got older, however, especially when I became a teenager. Everything I do, everything I know, I learned from him—Edward Sr., my father. I hated the man, I always had, but I couldn't deny the fact that he turned me into what I was becoming—successful. When he died, it was much harder on my mother than it was for me. Even after everything he'd done to her, she still loved him. I was sixteen, and I had already learned everything he had to teach, so it wasn't a very sad day for me._

_School was a blur. I worked, and I worked hard, harder than anyone else I knew, and I thrived for perfection, and I __**achieved**__ perfection. My dad dying gave me control of his company, one of the top law firms in the U.S., but I wasn't able to truly have it until I was twenty._

_My mother, Elizabeth, remarried when I was eighteen. I didn't much care for the man, but it was clear to me and everyone around me that he loved my mother as if she were God herself, so I got over it. Besides, Esme had taken me under her wing long before my dad even died, and I'd been living with her since I was fourteen—calling her "mom" more than my own mother. I loved Elizabeth, but Esme was always there—her and Carlisle, my uncle, her husband._

_Everything else in my life was a bit of a haze. I didn't like thinking of the past, so I tried to forget it. I did recall many visits to a shrink, countless girls all interested in the "mysterious" Edward Cullen Jr., and the numerous fights I'd gotten in, my anger just as bad as my father's, it would seem. _

_**~MOB~**_

"_Edward, you're twenty-two-years-old. I know that's still young, I know you still have time, a lot of time, but it wouldn't hurt to start thinking about settling down __**now**__," Mom said, coming to sit next to me._

_It was Sunday night, and we'd just eaten dinner. Now, we were all in the backyard, talking and listening to music the way we always after dinner every Sunday—the way we had been doing since as long as I could remember. Since I was nineteen, Esme never failed to seek me out when I was alone and try to have a "mother-son" bonding moment. I enjoyed them, but now all she talked about was me settling down. "Mom…"_

_Esme raised her hands in surrender. "I know, I know. I'm just saying. I want to see you happy, Edward. You deserve to be happy."_

"_I __**am**__ happy," I assured her, but I wasn't. I never had been. Maybe that was on account to what I had endured, or maybe there was something wrong with me, I didn't know, but I wasn't. Nevertheless, that didn't mean I could let her down by allowing her to think otherwise. "Besides, why are you so sure being with a woman will make me happy? Why are women told to be happy and confident without a man, independent, but men are told to get one?"_

_Mom rolled her eyes. "I'm sure because, no matter what anyone else thinks or says, everyone needs someone. There's another half for every one person, Edward. And I know you. You don't believe there's anyone out there for you. I just…I don't want you to be afraid for the rest of your life, sweetheart."_

_The conversation was taking an unexpected turn, and I shifted a little—uncomfortable. I didn't like it. "Afraid of what exactly, Esme?" I was exasperated already. _

_She gave me a sad smile. "Becoming him."_

_After she left, I stayed put, just thinking._

_I wasn't afraid of becoming him. I __**was **__him._

_And I liked it._

"_You know Mom means well," Alice said, bumping me lightly on the hip with her own._

_I nodded. I did know that._

_After we'd all been put on kitchen duty—Emmett, Alice, Rosalie, and me a childhood friend—Emmett decided to bring up Esme and her latest game of matchmaker. _

"_And anyway, Tanya isn't bad. She's actually really smart. And pretty," Alice told me as if I didn't already know._

_Rosalie snorted. "Plus, she's a slut, so she's perfect for you."_

"_I still don't understand why you don't like her," a clueless Emmett butted in. "In the three years we've known Tanya; I haven't seen her do anything to you yet."_

_**Except sleep with you**__, Rose's face so clearly said to Alice and me, but merely shrugged and continued drying the dishes as I washed them. Rosalie was my best friend. Like Esme, she'd always been there for me whenever she needed me, and I would do anything for the girl. When I'd found out Emmett fucked around with Tanya, I was ready to kill him, but she told me to calm down and let it go, stating he could sleep with whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted, because she didn't care anymore._

_She was a liar, but I let it go for her._

"_Tanya is fine, but I don't ever see a future with her." I shrugged. "I know she means well, I just wish she would stop."_

_Rosalie replied, "She just wants to see you happy."_

"_I know that, too."_

_Emmett, wearing the big, shit-eating grin he was famous for, laughed and clapped me on the back, knocking me forward just a bit—whether it was intentional or not, I wasn't sure. "You're either going to have to deal with it, bro, or get married."_

_It was my turn to snort. "Not happening."_

"_Then, my friend, your only option is to buy yourself a woman to pretend to be your wife for Mom's sake," Emmett joked, clapping me on the back once more before leaving to take out the trash._

_We all laughed, taking his joke for what it was, but neither of them noticed my escaping into my own thoughts, contemplating. _

_**~MOB~**_

"_**Women are nothing more than a piece of beautiful meat, all dolled up and ready for the taking. Given to us to satisfy our needs, make us look good, and serve us however we see fit and nothing more, Edward. You don't ever treat them like they're anything more. They'll start thinking they can walk all over you and run the place," my father had told a then thirteen-year-old me after catching me watching porn. "There isn't a need for this ever. You see an uncountable number of women every day, son. Just take your pick. 'No' means nothing, **__**nothing**__**, in a man's world. It'll do you good to remember that."**_

"_You…you are absolutely out of your fucking mind!" Rosalie had yelled at me after I'd told her what I was going to do. It was amazing, really, seeing my plan set in on her face. She was confused, and then disbelieving, and then shocked, and finally, angry. Pissed, was more like it. She didn't like this at all. "There is no question about it; this is the most ridiculous thing you have __**ever**__ thought of."_

_I rolled my eyes. "Rose, you're making a bigger deal of this than it needs to be."_

_That was the wrong thing to say. Her eyes narrowed, and she moved closer to me. I took a step back._

"_I'm making a bigger deal of this than necessary? Edward, you're talking about __**buying**__ a woman, for Heaven sakes!" she exclaimed. She continued to walk toward me, and I continued to back up until I tripped and fell into my office chair, leaving me with nowhere else to go. She jabbed her finger into my chest with each word as she spoke. "Women are __**not **__property, Edward Cullen, you cannot just find one you like and buy her as your wife, do you hear me?" _

_I gently slapped her finger away. "Why are you getting upset with me? Emmett's the one that suggested it."_

"_He was joking! And you know that! God, Edward, you…this is so beneath you. I don't know whom I'm more furious with," she snapped. "You or your father for turning you into this!"_

"_Don't you dare bring him into this, Rose. You know better," I said warningly, standing up then. "You haven't a right to be upset with him. You don't know him, you never did. And if you don't like the way I am, you could just leave and not come back," I barked, angry._

_There was a line when it came to my father, and she had just crossed it. However I felt about him was irrelevant; my father was a man who always demanded respect, and he was going to get it even through death. I would see to it._

_She stepped away immediately, her eyes widening slightly and then they narrowed again; she was never one to back down. "I have a right to be upset with whomever in the hell I want to be upset with, including Edward Sr. for being such a dick," she retorted. "If this is the way you're going to act, this is how you're going to live your life, then by all means, go ahead. I'll take your advice and leave."_

"_You forgot the 'and don't come back' part," was my response._

"_I didn't, actually."_

_She left then, slamming the door to my study loudly in her wake._

"_FUCK," I bellowed, upturning my desk._

_In a sudden fit of rage, I began to tear away at the study violently, destroying any and everything that my hands touched._

"_**It all starts with a room," my father had told a then sixteen-year-old me after I'd messed up a room in another fit of rage, just days before he had died. "And ends with another version of me."**_

_I wouldn't say she ever got over it, but two months later, Rose and I were on speaking terms again. A week after that had happened; she agreed to help me look for a wife. I told her she didn't have to, that I'd just find someone else to help me, but she said that if I was going to do it, she wasn't going to let some random stranger who could turn on me in an instant help me._

"_But I have conditions," she'd said. I nodded. I knew that was coming. "One: she can't be underage."_

_I nodded immediately, grimacing. "Of course not. God, no, never."_

"_Good. I would have kicked your ass had you shown any sigh of not liking that," she answered. "Now, two: she has to come here voluntarily. You can't just by her from somewhere or someone or whatever, and she doesn't want it."_

"_Okay," I said, nodding. I could make sure that was the case. "Anything else?"_

_Rosalie shook her head. "No, but if I think of something, I'll let you know." Of course she would. As I stood up to leave, she grabbed my hand gently to stop me. "Edward, if you do something to fuck this up, or you go against my conditions in anyway, I will cut your dick off."_

_I never doubted her for a second._

_It would be two years before I found anyone. _

_**~MOB~**_

"_**Yeah, um, my name is Charles—Charles Swan—and I got your, uh, flyer or whatever. It was being passed around at a poker game. Anyway, what you said, it hit close to home. I have a daughter, Bella, she's eighteen, and she's wife material, I think. Just, um, give me a call back…"**__ He went on to give me his cell number and sent a picture of said daughter, but I'd stopped listening then because my shock took control of me for a moment._

"_That sick fuck," Rosalie had snapped when I told her. "That's the most disgusting message I have ever heard in my life. I can't…I can't even fucking believe this. What kind of sick fuck calls to discuss selling his daughter? I don't…I can't even right now."_

_I nodded, but not because I agreed with her, but because I couldn't believe how beautiful the girl was. Not that the other offers I'd gotten weren't good looking, but there was something about this girl and her brown eyes, and her big, happy smile._

"_I want her."_

_Her protest went ignored as I went to call him back._

_**~MOB~**_

"_So, when do I get my money?"_

_After weeks of talking back and forth, Charlie Swan and I finally came to a decision—we were doing this. His wife and daughter were supposedly on board, something Rosalie just couldn't understand, and things were going great._

"_My assistant will be coming to see you soon. You'll be well informed then," I told him before hanging up._

_What I still couldn't get over about the whole situation, both Rose and me, was the fact that the man was an officer. Not only that, but a police chief. He of all people should know nothing good would come out of this. Then again, Rose had been accusing me of calling the kettle black; I was a lawyer, after all._

_**~MOB~**_

_Breaking the news of what I was doing to Emmett and Cynthia was hard, though it was much, much easier than telling Rosalie. Neither of them stopped talking to me, although Emmett did punch me, leaving a bruise the size of a baseball on my shoulder. For the most part, Cynthia let it go. She didn't like it, but she realized I wasn't going to back out now, so she reluctantly accepted it. _

_We all agreed that, if we were going to keep this out of the public's and my parents' eye, the best thing to do would be to keep Alice out of it. My sister, she meant well, but she couldn't keep a secret to save her life and neither of us was willing to take that risk. _

_From there, we got everything set up. Emmett came up with the story, Rosalie set up her room, Cynthia arranged the meeting and looked over flights, and I made a list of everything I would need from Charlie Swan to take care of his daughter._

_Isabella Swan. She truly was a thing of beauty, I had to admit, and she was nothing like the other women I was dating—look wise, at least. The four-year age difference had me slightly uncomfortable at first, but I was dealing with it now. She was a dancer—a ballerina—and an amazing one if Charlie Swan's words could be trusted, would be graduating from high school soon, an excellent cook, and didn't speak much._

_That would prove to be untrue soon._

"_She's sick, Edward!" Rosalie had yelled at me the minute she walked back in the door._

_We'd chosen this day to fly Rosalie out to Forks to meet up with Charlie. Though I had already made my decision, I had wanted to make sure this man was legit. I didn't want to be cheated or set up in any kind of way. Plus, it was easier to get a better sense of the man's personality than it was over the phone._

"_How so?" I asked, confused. "And how was he?"_

_She scowled. "He gave me the creeps the minute he opened his door. I didn't like him. I don't like him, Edward. There is something completely off about him, and I'm not comfortable with the fact that I left his daughter there."_

"_Why's that?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at her. _

_Her scowl deepened. "Aren't you listening to me? Because he was a creep."_

"_Did he do something?"_

"_No, but the way he stared at me, Edward. I didn't like it." She looked visibly shaken for a moment, but she shook it off and sat down across from me._

_I was sitting on the floor in the living room and looking over Isabella's picture, trying to make sure this was what I really wanted to do. I even started to feel bad for a moment, but then I remembered that I shouldn't. I wouldn't._

_My father would be proud._

_I shrugged. "Well, there's nothing we can do about that now, so let's move on. You mentioned her being sick? What do you mean?"_

"_She was diagnosed with Anorexia when she was thirteen-years-0ld." Rose pulled a manila folder out of her gigantic purse and handed it to me. "He gave me her medical file on the way out. She's been to recovery, but, apparently, relapsed recently. Last year. She was in treatment again, but got pulled out. He wouldn't say why, but it's probably got something to do with what he needs the money for."_

_I looked over the folder she handed me and frowned. "Is she going to need treatment still?"_

"_He claims she won't. We'll see. I looked it over on the plane. Eating disorders are no joke, Edward," she cautioned me._

_I nodded. "I won't take it as one." My frown deepened as I continued to look over her files. "A lot of trips to the hospital."_

"_A lot of broken bones," Rosalie agreed. Her brow went up this time. "Edward…"_

_I shook my head. I knew where she was going with this and stopped it immediately. "No. Jumping to conclusions is stupid. We're not stupid. I'll make sure she's taken care of. Thank you for this."_

"_But…"_

"_I'll talk to you later, Rose," I dismissed. "And I'll make sure she's taken care of."_

_She stared at me a moment before giving one quick nod and leaving. After I heard the door shut behind her, I continued to look through the file I'd been given, getting that same sinking feeling I imagined Rosalie to have as she looked this over on the plane._

_Finally seeing her in person was better than I thought it was going to be, so much better. Her brown eyes were even more beautiful than I thought, and her lips, stretched into a wide, happy smile in every picture her father had sent me, were plump and pink and begging to be kissed. Her body was pretty amazing, too, all her years of dancing paying off, I guessed._

_Her attitude was shit, however, and I wasn't going to put up with it. _

"_Yes, I can cook. And I can clean. I can do all the wifely tasks you may need from me, Edward. I do, however, refuse to have sex with you," she'd snapped, eyes narrowed._

_I retorted with, "I wasn't planning on having sex with you. Ever. I wouldn't." That was a lie. I had been planning on it, and I still was. She wasn't going to just stay in my house and __**not**__ sleep with me._

_She looked away from me then, and I stood there quietly to give her a minute, to let this all sink in. When she hadn't turned back to me, hadn't even said anything, I walked over to her and squatted down beside her._

"_Are you okay?" I asked. She screamed, jumped, and banged her head against the car ceiling, and I frowned slightly. That was an overreaction if I'd ever seen one. "You've been spaced out for about five minutes now."_

_After taking a deep breath, she'd nodded and said, "Yes, yes, I'm fine, thank you." And then she finally looked up at me again, and a little a gasp escaped from between her lips. "They're so green," she whispered._

_I was confused as to what she was talking about for a moment, until it dawned on me that the only green thing she could be seeing in that moment was my eyes. "You're talking about my eyes?" I said, clarifying. I smirked. "Thanks, I guess, I get that all the time."_

_I would have used that moment to make a move. I would have complimented her eyes, placing my hand lightly on her knee, giving it a gently squeeze, and then I would have used my other hand to brush away the hair in her face, using that moment to tell her how beautiful she looked. At that point, her breathing would have picked up slightly as I would have had moved just that much closer to her, and she'd be conflicted—to kiss me or not. I would've made up her mind for her, leaning in to kiss her lightly on the lips, then harder as she finally began to give in. The rest would have been history._

_Things didn't go the way I had planned._

"_Can you move, please? I'd like to get out of the car now," she'd snapped. I'd schooled my expression into an emotionless mask, but I was shocked. Shocked and displeased—being refused never happened to me. I stood and walked around to the back of the car, getting her bags. "I can do that myself, you know."_

_Having had enough, I dropped them to the ground. She hadn't been pleasant at all since she'd gotten here, so I was going to stop trying to be. "Fine, I'd rather not help someone who's going to snap at me at the most random times."_

"_But was it really necessary to drop my bags on the ground?" she asked, coming by me to pick them up. When she got them, she glared at me._

_I smirked. "It was. You didn't want my help getting out or taking them in. I imagine you wouldn't want me to bring them to you, either."_

"_God, I HATE YOU!" she'd yelled out of nowhere._

_That caught me off guard. I expected her to be upset by the situation we were in, of course, but for her to say she hated me was another thing all together. "You hate me?"_

_She nodded and took a step closer to me. "Yes, Edward Cullen, I. Hate. You. I hate you for putting out that stupid ad, I hate you for buying me, and I hate my dad for selling me to you. I. HATE. YOU!" she yelled, her cheeks reddening with anger. "I'll be the perfect wife you need me to be in public and around your family, but other than that I want nothing to do with you, okay?"_

_She ran inside, and I stood there, honestly taken aback by her words. The ache I was suddenly feeling my chest was one I hadn't felt in a long time, one that hadn't been felt since my father was still beating my mother, but I didn't know why it was there—I didn't know what it meant._

"_Yeah, well, you should have thought it over more before you agreed to this shit!" I yelled back when it was much too late. I closed my eyes then, trying to calm myself. "Fucking bitch."_

"_That isn't how you speak of your wife, young man," came Cynthia's voice. When I opened my eyes back up, she was leaning against the door, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. "What have I always told you?"_

_I shrugged, feeling like a schoolboy being scolded all of a sudden. "I don't know."_

"_Edward."_

"_To never speak when I'm angry," I muttered, feeling my cheeks warm up slightly. "Because the words are always hurtful and most of the time never true."_

_There were only two women in the world who could ever put me in place: Esme and Cynthia. No matter how old I got, getting in trouble by them was never something I wanted._

"_Exactly. Next time, hold your tongue before I snatch it out," she said. "Second, while I don't agree with the way she handled things, either, I can understand why she did it, can't you? Her father just took twenty grand to give her away to a man she knew absolutely nothing about. Give her some credit and show a little respect by not calling her such a foul name, okay?"_

_I nodded._

"_I'll talk to her in the morning, see if I can't help her figure some things out. If the both of you can manage to stay calm and talk this over like the mature adults I believe you both can be, there's no reason why a compromise of some sort can't be settled."_

_I nodded, and she walked away, but I knew that would never happen._

_The little girl was the most infuriating being I have ever come across in my life._

_**~MOB~**_

I couldn't describe my feelings for Bella even if it meant saving my life. I'd never been so conflicted with a woman—with life—_in_ my life. I accepted the fact that I was becoming my father, that I _was_ my father, I even grew to like it, but now this girl, this woman, had me questioning everything I've come to believe in.

Was the way I was acting wrong? Was becoming my father such a bad thing? His way was the _only_ way. He wanted—needed—respect and he got it. He was a force to be reckoned with a work, built up one of the top law firms in the country, leaving it for me to run.

After years and years of learning of his ways, I honestly couldn't see the problem.

Not until now, at least. Now…now I wasn't sure.

What I was sure of, though, was that I didn't like the way she made me feel. The way she made me question my life. I mean, who the hell was she to come in my life and change the way I thought? Who was she to change the way I thought? Change all the fucking hard work my dad put in to making me this way?

That wasn't what I paid for.

In fact, I didn't get anything I paid for. Bella spoke her mind, wasn't as reserved as her father led me to believe when he spoke of her, she didn't do as she was told, and she certainly wasn't easy to handle. She was very hard to handle, and, before we reached our agreements, she argued with me on just about everything.

And the way she can't just take the information she's given and be happy, she just had to keep insisting on knowing—that was infuriating.

But she was sexy, quite entertaining, and all the other's except Alice liked her. It was too late to return her now.

"Think of the Devil, and he shall appear," I said as a pajama-clad Bella walked into the kitchen. She rolled her eyes at me, and I chuckled.

"Very funny," she said, pouring herself a cup of orange juice. She turned back to me with a smirk on her face. "You were thinking of me, huh?"

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "What do you want to do today?"

She chuckled. "I just want to sit around in my pajamas all day and watch movies. I'll probably read, too."

I nodded and leaned against the kitchen counter; standing there with her while she began to work on breakfast, one of the perks to having a wife, I guessed. "You sure that's all you want?"

"Positive."

After breakfast was finished, she made our plates and sat down, but I stayed where I was, watching her for a while, watching her fall into her own little world. The way I'd catch her looking at me sometimes made it obvious that she wanted me. That she felt something for me. When she got lost in her mind, I knew what she'd be thinking because I was always thinking the same thing. While I was conflicted on every other aspect of my feelings and thoughts toward Bella, my sexual attraction for her was clear, and I made no show of trying to hide it. I was going to have sex with her whether she wanted me to or not.

That was my reason for trying to make this work, for trying to make her extra happy. Sex. It was all I wanted from her. That was mandatory if she was going to continue living in my home, spending my money.

I snapped my fingers in front of her face to bring her back, and she scowled. "What?"

"Where were you just now?" I questioned, smirking.

She answered, "Jail. For murdering you. I was trying to decide if it would be worth it."

Bella had a wonderful personality, a great sense of humor. That made things much easier for me. A boring fuck was a worthless fuck, in my opinion. I imagined her being very vocal and outgoing in bed.

"And?"

"It was." She shrugged. I rolled my eyes and grabbed my plate, sitting across from me. She chuckled. "No, I was just thinking about how nice these past few days have been. I'm glad—well, not glad, per se; I'm still not especially happy about our situation—but fine, I guess, with the fact we could make things work," she explained.

"Me too," I replied automatically. It was true; I was. It made us getting together easier. I grinned then and stood up, heading over to the refrigerator to grab a Target bag I'd placed up there for her, handing it to her when I sat back down. "Happy Birthday, Bella."

Today was September 13, 2012. Nineteen years ago on this day, my "wife" was born. I tried to make this day special for her, her last day as a teen, but she was adamant on _not_ having a party, so I gave up on trying to get her permission for a party and just threw her a party.

Bella groaned and shook her head, narrowing her eyes a bit. "I told you not to remind me. I told you to not even say that to me." She scowled at me.

"Birthdays are important to my family and me, Bella. Especially to me. I was never sure if the next one was my last," I said, and her scowl deepened.

Ever since I'd let her in on a part of my past, I tended it to use it in my favor. Bella…Bella was gullible, and she was easily guilt-tripped. Thinking about it always left a bad taste in my mouth, but anything to get my way.

"First, stop doing that. You know I hate. You can't just…do that," she said, serious. "Second…fine. You win, again. Thank you, Edward."

She mustered up a big, fake smile and took her gift.

"You're welcome, Bella. It's not every day a person turns nineteen, you know."

"Technically, it is."

"You know what I meant." _Smartass_.

"Sure." She shrugged. She looked through her bag, and I smiled a little as her own small smile covered her face. "I'm touched…"

"Not yet," I mumbled under my breath, but she would be soon if I had my way."

"What was that?" Bella asked, blushing before I could even tell her.

"Nothing. I have to go to work. You just relax and have a good day," I told her, smiling sweetly. "When I get home, we're going out to dinner. We're going to celebrate properly."

"Edward." Her voice was a warning and full of suspicion.

I responded, "Bella." I gave her a nod, acknowledging her, before walking out.

"You better not have done what I think you've done, Edward Cullen!" she yelled after me.

I chuckled and left for work.

_**~MOB~**_

I sighed heavily as James walked pass my office, stopping outside the door to speak with my assistant, Kate, for a moment before coming in.

"Edward." He nodded in greeting.

"James."

He sat down in front of my desk, and I couldn't quite control the sigh that left me. It wasn't the fact that the man was a grade A asshole that pissed me off about him. It was how he got work done and what made me damn lucky to have him working for me. It was the fact that he was always around, always being a fucking creeper, and just…the way he looked at people—at me—sometimes was weird as hell.

"I wanted to talk to you," he said.

I leaned back in my chair and nodded. "I can see that. What is it that you need?"

"You look just like your dad right now." James smirked at me and leaned forward a bit, resting his chin on his closed fist. "Wow. The resemblance is uncanny. It's a little…déjà vu feeling for me, right now."

James was about twenty years my junior, had been working here for as long as I could remember, and was made senior partner by my dad. I was in my dad's office, nothing had been changed, and I did look like him, so I could understand why it felt a little weird for him.

"Uh, yeah," I mumbled, not really sure what to say.

He smiled. "He'd be proud."

"Thanks," I said, ready to move on. "So, you wanted to talk about something…"

"Right, right," he replied, laughing. "I wanted to take the Jefferson case."

I leaned forward in surprise, an eyebrow rising. "Really? You want to take the Jefferson case?"

James nodded. "Yes, yes I do."

"Tim is on that case."

"I know, but I—forgive my language—feel like Tim is going to fuck this up. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's an amazing lawyer; he wouldn't be partner if he wasn't a good lawyer, but he doesn't know how to handle this one, Edward," he said seriously, leaning forward even more until his hands were resting on my desk. "I've got all these notes and…"

"You have all these notes and…what? You want me to just drop this guy because _you_ have a feeling he's going to mess up?" I asked him in disbelief. I respected the man, but he was ridiculous. "I'm sorry, but since when do I run this company on _your_ feelings? I wasn't aware that that was how we worked here."

James nodded. "I know, I didn't mean to imply that, but I just…can we get together later?" There must have been "what in the fuck" written all over my face because he quickly moved on. "I just mean to go over my notes. I honestly think I just worked out how to win this case, and I need you to look it over before it's too late."

I sighed heavily, scrubbing my face with my hands for a moment. He looked so sincere, so fucking pitiful and nervous, that I found myself nodding. "Okay. The next court hearing is next week, so sometime before then we'll get together over dinner or something and go over what you have. With Tim," I added.

"Tonight?" he asked.

I shook my head. "It's my wife's birthday, so no. I'll see what I can do for tomorrow night."

Something in his face changed then, and he stood up abruptly, giving me a curt nod. "Your wife, of course. Birthdays are important. I'd hate to be the one to keep you away on such a day."

"She'd probably love that, actually," I joked, chuckling.

He looked confused. "Um…"

"Mr. Cullen, I need to speak with you." I looked past him to see my assistant Kate. She smiled. "It's urgent."

"I see," James said, nodding. "Excuse me. Thank you for your time, Mr. Cullen. I appreciate it."

"No problem."

He left and Kate walked in, side-stepping him as she wasn't his biggest fan, either.

"Edward." She leaned against my desk and narrowed her eyes. "Edward, you jackass, I _honestly_ can't believe you."

I decided to play dumb. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, yeah, play the dumb card, Edward. I'm sure your wife will love that once I talk to her!"

I glared. "Kate…"

"Don't 'Kate' me, you asshole. How could you do that to my sister?" she asked. "I thought you liked her."

I sighed heavily and scrubbed at my face once again. "I do like her. I like Tanya, but not in the way that everyone wants me to, Kate. She understands that."

Elezar and Carmen Denali were great friends of Carlisle and Esme. About three years ago, Elezar's daughter of another marriage came down to Seattle from Russia to live with him and his new wife, Carmen.

"Are you sure about that? Because…"

"We're still fucking," I said over her words, shutting her up immediately. "So, yeah, I'm sure about that."

Shortly after the first time my mother set us up, Tanya and I continued to see each other, occasionally going out on dates, but mostly just fooling around. Like me, she wasn't looking for anything serious. She just liked to have a good time, and I was all for that.

Kate gave me a look of confusion. "What?"

"We're still seeing each other," I explained slowly.

She rolled her eyes. "I got that, smartass, but I thought you were married?"

"Not that I have to explain anything to you, but we have an open marriage," I said, and her eyes widened. "You can being seeing your way out now, Kate." I liked her, but she had a tendency to think she was right all the damn time and that got annoying. "And if you want to keep this job, don't you ever, and I mean _ever_, try to confront me with something like at work again."

She nodded, slowly walking backward to make her exit. "Yes, Sir. Sorry, Mr. Cullen, it won't happen again."

"You need to get home," Emmett said when I answered in way of greeting. I'd been in the middle of looking over a case file when he called. "Now. I think Bella needs you right now."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, hello to you, too, Emmett. Anyway, what does she need me for? I'm at work, and I can't leave right now."

Irina looked up at me from under my desk, grinned, and then continued what she was doing. I, barely, stifled a groan and tightened my hand in her hair, setting a slower pace and pushing my hard member deeper into her mouth. She was being too sloppy for my liking.

"This whole arrangement has been bothering her more than she's been letting on, apparently. She's freaking the fuck out right now, man, and we can't get her to come out her room to calm her down," Emmett told me, sounding uncharacteristically frustrated. "Fuck work and come home now. We don't know what to do."

"And I do?" I questioned between gritted teeth, my breathing picking up slightly.

Emmett sighed. "You may have better luck than us."

"How?" This confused me. He knew our situation. He should have known I would have had just as much luck as they were having. Irina moved my hand away from her head then and began to do it on her own, understanding then how I liked it, and moaned around my cock, which caused me to groan. "I'll get home soon, you guys can go home now," I managed to get out. "But _fuck_, Emm, I gotta _go_, man."

"What are you doing?" he asked, suspicion coloring his voice.

I hung up without another word, as I wasn't able to control the moan that left me, then. Irina took me as far in her throat as she could, moaned, and swallowed repeatedly as I came.

"Shit," I mumbled as I came down from my post-orgasm high, breathing slowly. "Once you corrected yourself that was actually really good."

I heard Irina chuckle and looked down to see her fixing herself up before crawling out from under my desk. "Of course it was." She grinned and before I had time to register her movements, her lips were on mine, and she was trying to shove her tongue down my throat.

I froze in shock for a moment, having never expected that to happen, before pushing her away, probably a bit too roughly by the look on her face. "What in the fuck was that?" I hissed, wiping my lips off with my arm as if that would change what had just happened. "We don't kiss. _Ever_."

"But I thought…" She trailed off and began to back away slowly, eyes wide.

Irina was scared of me, and she should be.

I placed my hands in my hair and squeezed tightly, closing my eyes. I took deep, calming breaths to still my body, which was shaking almost violently in rage. Kissing went against my rules of hooking up. To me, it was too much of an intimate act; I didn't want intimate. Kissing was the number one thing to _not_ do, and she knew that—catching me by surprise with it wasn't helping the situation, either.

"You thought _wrong_," I snapped through clenched teeth.

"_**Kissing isn't something you want to do, Edward," Dad said after catching me making out with the next-door neighbor in the backyard. "Have all the sex you want, see if I care, but don't you ever kiss. Kissing is what a lover does; you're a man. Men aren't lovers."**_

In reality, I knew it wasn't really Irina that I was upset with. It was myself. It was Bella.

The last person I kissed, willingly, with everything I had , was Bella. And I liked it. Had we not been interrupted, I'm sure we would have gone much further than just a kiss. It was with that kiss that I began to rethink everything.

"You should go before Kate gets back from lunch," I mumbled, taking another deep breath to make sure I was calmed completely. "I don't need her trying to tear my head off again by finding out about us."

Though she still looked a little frightened, Irina cracked a smirk and chuckled quietly. "You should probably worry more about what Tanya's going to do when she finds out."

I nodded. That much I knew. Sleeping with a married man whose wife didn't mind because they were in an open relationship was one thing; sleeping with a man that was also sleeping with your sister was another thing entirely, and I knew the first night Irina and I were together that she wouldn't like it.

"Yeah."

Irina took that as her cue to leave. "Well, I have to get back to work. Call me again sometime, Edward. _Anytime_," she stressed it. "And I'm sorry. I won't do that again."

"I know," I said.

She left, and a few minutes later, Kate was back, none the wiser to what had just went on. I sat back in my seat and spun around to stare out the window, losing myself in my thoughts. After a few minutes, I made the decision that I would call Irina again. Despite what had happened just moments ago, I liked her well enough.

I also decided that I'd had enough of Bella. Had enough of her in the sense that I wouldn't stress myself out anymore. I would stop questioning everything I did. I paid good money for her; she'd do her job and that would be that.

By the time I got home from work, I had fifteen text messages and five missed calls, all from Emmett, Rosalie, and Cynthia. They all thought I'd been home already and were worried about Bella, wanted to know exactly what was going on with her.

I actually started to feel bad for not being here sooner, as things seemed to be more serious than I'd thought.

This was confirmed when I walked in to my living room and saw Bella sitting at the mini bar, my liquor cabinet broken in to, shattered glass covering the floor. When she saw me, she grinned, and I sighed.

"You're drunk," I stated the obvious.

She snorted.

I wasn't sure I liked her this way. "Bella, this isn't funny."

She was slouched against the wall, random giggles leaving her every now and then. The grin on her face was big and happy, but her eyes, usually so full of life and a fiery spark that I couldn't deny liking, wasn't there. Her eyes killed the smile covering her face.

No, I didn't like her this way at all.

"Isabella!" I yelled in surprise, watching as she fell off the barstool and onto the ground.

She frowned, but then she looked up at me and began to laugh hysterically, covering her mouth with her hands as she did so.

"This isn't funny," I said again, slowly becoming annoyed with her drunken antics.

She fell into another fit of giggles and asked, "Not even a little bit? I think it is. Just a little, Eddie."

"Don't call me that." I scowled. I never liked that name.

She snickered. "Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Edd—"

I huffed in annoyance and picked her up off the ground. I put her back on the stool, but then I knew she'd end up falling again eventually, so I put her on the couch instead. She shouldn't be able to fall off of that.

"Eddie." She giggled.

I rolled my eyes and squatted down in front of her, giving her what I hoped to be a serious, no nonsense look. "What happened?"

She didn't say anything for a while, looking past me as she thought. When she looked back at me, she murmured, "Well, um…wow, your eyes are pretty."

I sighed. "Emmett called me and told me some of what happened. Can you tell me what caused this?"

I wasn't really sure I wanted to know. The more I thought about it, the more what Rosalie and I had talked about that day she went and met Charlie Swan for me began to make sense.

For some reason, I hoped that wasn't the case. I hoped that I was just making something out of nothing, and Bella was just drinking to celebrate.

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

Her question took me off guard, and I frowned. "Bella…"

"Well, do you?" she asked, clearly becoming impatient by look on her face. She slid off the couch, then, and sat in front of me. "I find you very handsome, Edward. More handsome, than, say, Robert Pattinson."

I opened my mouth to ask her whom the hell she was talking about, and to get back to the topic at hand, but before I could, she pulled me in for a kiss. I gasped in surprise pushed at her to move her away from me, but she stayed firm. I could have moved her if I wanted to, but I didn't.

I kissed her back, unable to resist the pretty, drunk girl that was throwing herself at me, and only stopped because we needed to breathe. After we pulled away from each other, she pushed on my shoulders until I relented and lay back, straddling my hips quickly.

My breathing picked up slightly, and I had to work hard to keep myself from groaning out loud. I was getting turned on just from the thought of fucking her. Her being so ready and willing was making things even better for me.

"Have sex with me, Eddie," she murmured seductively.

Before she could kiss me again like she was planning to, I turned us over quickly and kissed her hard, rubbing my erection against her as she wrapped her legs loosely around my hips. She groaned into our kiss and tangled her hands tightly into my hair, pulling me even closer.

We kept that going for a short while, kissing each other roughly and dry humping to our heart's content. Just as things were starting to really heat up, I started to think of my mother of all people. The way he used her. And then I started thinking of all the other girls and women I'd been with, and I started to feel sick.

I could remember clearly then how they'd react when it was all over. How they'd keep coming back. How my mother would keep going back to him no matter what he did for her.

How eventually they all ended up begging for me in the end.

I was definitely going to be sick.

"We can't do this," I announced after abruptly pulling away. We couldn't.

She sat up, legs spread, lips red and swollen, and panting heavily. She was pouting as well, obviously trying way too hard to be cute, but that made it even cuter to me. "Why not?"

"Because we can't," I said.

She whined, "But it's my birthday. This is what I get for my birthday."

"_**Her birthdays…her birthdays are very special to her," Chief Swan had said on one of our many phone calls. "She never asks for much, but I always try to give her everything she wants and then some."**_

I really was going to be sick.

I nodded slowly. "I know what you get for your birthday, Bella."

She began to shake her head, and I knew she was figuring out where I was going with this.

"I need to know what's happened," I said quietly. When she didn't answer me, I continued with, "I think we should talk about your dad…"

Even though this whole time I thought I was going to be sick, still felt like I was going to be sick, it was Bella who actually became sick, throwing up all over herself and the floor before passing out.

I blanched. The smell hit my nose immediately, and I gagged a few times, but I eventually got myself together and in gear. I picked her up and walked her upstairs, keeping my nose from as far away from her and the smell as was possible.

When I got to her bathroom, I sat her down on the bathroom counter, as she was now lucid enough now to keep herself up, and stripped down to my boxers so my clothes wouldn't get wet when I put her in the shower.

"Edward, I'm sorry," I heard her mumble as I checked to see if the water was hot enough.

I turned around to see her staring at me—or through me rather—as she wiped at the throw up on her shirt.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," I replied, walking over to her. With a sigh, I began to unbutton her top, glad she'd stayed in her pajamas like she'd said, and that the shirt was a button up.

She nodded. "I ruined our moment."

No truer statement had ever been spoken, and no erection had never died faster, that much was for sure, but I didn't blame her for it.

"It's okay."

Bella opened her mouth to protest, but I hushed her and finished removing the last of her clothes before stepping in to the shower with her.

"Wash my hair when you're done," she whispered, leaning against me more out of want than necessity. She was still drunk as all hell, and I knew I'd have a lot of alcohol to replace, but she was sobered up enough.

I nodded, and I washed her until the smell was gone. When that was done, I began to work on hair, combing my fingers through thick locks lightly for a moment before wetting it and then lathering it up with soap.

It was another thing I liked about Bella—her hair. It was long and thick, a deep, chocolate brown that reminded me of her eyes, and when the light hit it just right, revealed a hint of mahogany.

"Mmm," was her softly moaned response as I scratched her scalp lightly. "Rinse," she commanded.

I rolled my eyes and did as she told me to, rinsing her hair thoroughly. "I don't wash hair for free," I told her seriously.

I was in the shower, and I had an extremely beautiful woman with an amazing body pressed against me, now clean and sorry for cutting our "moment" short. If I didn't work _this_ moment to my advantage, I'd be a _very_ stupid man.

"Of course not," she mumbled, and though I couldn't see her, I knew she was rolling her eyes.

She hadn't said anything against it, so I took that as my cue to move ahead. When I was finished with her hair, I let it fall down her back and placed my hands on her shoulders. Her breathing began to pick up immediately.

I wanted her now. This wasn't my intention at all when I brought her to the shower. I was just going to clean her up, put her in bed, and then call it a night, but I couldn't help myself. I was a _man_, and she was the most perfect creature I'd ever laid eyes on. I could admit that. Not even Rosalie was able to touch her beauty. I was convinced no woman would be able to mimic this body that, in that moment, was made specifically for me.

I leaned down to whisper sweetly in her ear, answering her question from earlier, "Yes, Bella, I think you're very pretty."

Her breathing hitched, and I smirked.

"Do you want this?" I asked her quietly, my mouth still leveled with her ear.

I knew this was wrong. Of course I did. I'd come to that conclusion earlier. I didn't do things like this; take advantage of damaged girls this way…

But right as I was deciding to postpone this for another day, she pressed hard against my erection and nodded once—firmly. "Yes."

That was enough for me.

I slowly ran my hands down her arms and then placed them back on her sides, sliding them back up until I was cupping a breast in each hand. "_These_ are perfect."

I lightly brushed my thumbs across her hardened nipples, and the accompanying moan that came from her with the action was sweet and low and continued to come as I kept up the motion. Her back arched slightly, pushing her breasts further into my hands, and I circled my thumbs around her nipples once more before finally continuing my descent down her sides and to her hips.

I pulled her closer to me to the point where we couldn't possibly any closer, my cock placed firmly between her ass. She gasped and wiggled her hips a bit, and I groaned, stilling her.

"Not time for that yet," I told her. She nodded. I wanted to take my time with her, get her good and ready before I fucked her into oblivion.

I held firmly on to her hip with one hand, while the other snaked between her legs, gently cupping her sex. Bella stiffened, but she quickly began to relax as I ran my middle finger through her wet slit and softly thumbed her clit.

"Edward," she murmured, placing her hand on mine to keep it still.

"Hmm?"

She whispered, "Stop teasing me."

I chuckled and gave her what she wanted, slipping two fingers in her easily. I moved my fingers in and out of her at a relatively slow pace, lightly brushing my thumb over her clit. Her hips moved in tune with what I was doing, pushing in to my thumb and rocking with my fingers, and we gradually began to pick up speed until she was panting heavily and clenching tightly around my fingers.

"Are you close?" I asked quietly in her ear, already knowing she was. I just wanted to hear it from her.

She gave no sign that she heard me speak. Instead, she placed her hands on both sides of her—holding on to the shower walls for support—and stopped moving, stiffening up slightly against me. I was curious as to why, but I didn't stop what _I_ was doing.

"I-I don't…I can't do this," she mumbled out so low that I almost didn't hear her. But I did, and I wished I hadn't. "C-can't do this. No."

"_**No means nothing—**__**nothing**_**."**

I ignored her, pretended to not hear her, and kept up what I was doing. She tensed up further, but I was determined to keep going, to bring her back to where she was just seconds ago.

"_Stop_," she stressed, her breathing still heavy, heavier, but not out of pleasure then. No, I knew this type of breathing well. She was panicking.

I didn't stop, though. I couldn't. I'd already started and this was what I wanted—_she_ was what I wanted, and I had her, and I'd keep her. Instead, I picked up the pace even more, fucking her harder with my fingers, I guessed to the point of pain if her whimpers were any indication, but I still didn't stop. I was too lost in the haze of getting my way.

"Edward, stop. _Please_," she begged. She was crying.

I froze. When the hell had she started crying? I thought to myself. I wasn't sure. I was only paying attention to myself, but she had it now. I pulled my fingers out, shut off the water, and turned her to face me. I wasn't really surprised when she refused to look at me.

"Bella…"

She was sobbing uncontrollably then, and I didn't know what to do to make her stop.

"Bella, please look at me?"

She shook her head fervently, and her sobs got louder, her body shaking violently from the intensity of her cries.

I stepped out of the shower and rested her on the counter, then, leaving her there to sit while I dried off and pulled my clothes back on. She hadn't stopped crying during that time, but she had begun to mumble "I'm sorry" over and over.

"Bella, you're going to send yourself in to a panic attack. Hush now and calm down," I said as I started to dry her off. It was a moot point telling her this, as she was already in the middle of one. I knew what they were like, how hard it was to calm yourself down, but that didn't stop from slamming my hands down harshly on the counter in frustration, causing her to jump and look up at me. "Stop crying and make yourself breath, Goddamnit!"

Her eyes were wide, and she looked terrified, but she'd stopped crying and her breathing was slowly returning to normal. I'd scared her into a panic attack and then scared her out. I was on a fucking roll.

"Go get some clothes on," I told her, irritated beyond belief at myself.

Bella nodded, and she left, while I sat leaned against the counter and scrubbed at my face with my hands, trying to come to terms with what I almost did—what I _did_. I'd never done anything like that before. Ever. That was one thing I'd promised myself I wouldn't do; I wouldn't rape a girl just for my benefit.

But I basically just had. I molested the poor girl in her own shower.

"Oh, God," I mumbled, the seriousness of what I'd done crashing over me in waves, an emotion I'd never felt before setting in.

_Guilt_. I felt guilty and ashamed; I felt disgusting. There was a fine line between reluctance and then finally giving in and flat out molestation and I'd just crossed it.

With Bella of all people.

After talking myself out of my own panic attack, something I'd learned to do over the years, I walked out the bathroom, only to find Bella curled up in her bed, crying again, but lightly this time.

"I'm going to bring you some aspirin or something. I'll be back," I mumbled out.

She didn't bother with a response, and I left for my own bathroom. I rummaged around in my medicine cabinet for a minute before finding my Tylenol. After running to the kitchen to get her a glass of water, I went back to her room and sat on the edge of the bed in front of her.

"Sit up."

She did so quickly and without complaint. "I bet your mother would be so proud of you." It was weak and barely audible, but her voice was laced with sarcasm. The tears were gone, and she was angry now.

I didn't say anything to that. It was true, my mother wouldn't be proud of me, she actually hasn't been in a long time, but I wouldn't be the one to admit it. "Take this."

"No."

I sighed. "Bella, take the pill. I'm hoping it'll ease some of the pain tomorrow morning. It's only this one. I can't give you more because of the alcohol." I shouldn't even be trying to give her this, but I wanted to help in some way.

"No," she repeated.

I huffed. "Look, Bella, just take the fucking pill and then go to sleep, all right? I'm not leaving until you do." It was the only way I felt I could help her after what I'd just done, ease whatever pain I could, and she was refusing it.

The way she was looking at me didn't sit well with me, either.

She hadn't looked at me since that first day we met.

"Fine."

"Fine," I repeated with a roll of my eyes, handing her the glass of water and the aspirin.

She took them and downed them both immediately, handing me back the glass before lying back down, turning her back to me. "You can leave now."

"Bella…"

"Thank you for my birthday present, Edward. It was perfect," she mumbled. She didn't sound angry anymore, just…done—accepting.

Her words hurt me more than they should have, and I didn't know why.

"Goodnight, Bella," I muttered as I walked out.

Back at the office, things had been so simple. I had everything figured out, it was all fine, and now…Now, I didn't know anymore, and after that shower…

I wanted to call Rosalie. I wanted to call Esme and Cynthia. I needed to talk to the three women that meant the most to me in this world. The three women that I knew I could talk to about anything and not get looked down on. It was rare of me to ask for help, and when I did I usually went to Carlisle, but at that moment I needed them…

And then I remembered I couldn't call them; I couldn't talk to them about this.

If there was one thing they wouldn't accept and wouldn't keep quiet about, even if it would protect me, it was this.

I'd fucked things up; I just hoped like hell Bella didn't remember any of it in the morning.


	9. Chapter 9: The Story So Far, pt 2

A|N: Here is part two! On the last chapter, the reviews were crazy! I loved them so much. Edward is a bad guy right now, but I promise he won't always be. He's slowly changing already.** Also, I'd just like to issue an apology for the last chapter.** I was completely careless when I uploaded it for not putting in a warning of what ensued, and for that I am so very sorry. I know how much of a trigger things like that can be, so I promise to not let that happen again.

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Twilight. Any part of it.**

_Note: An edited and revised part 1 will be uploaded soon. I'll let you all know when I post it, so you an go back and read the changes if you'd like._

Chapter Nine: The story so far, pt. 2

* * *

><p>Waking up the next morning was hell. It hurt. It wasn't a physical hurt, either. It was much worse than that, but I couldn't describe it. It got worse whenever I thought of Bella, when I thought of the night before. <em>Everything<em> hurt. I'd never felt like that before.

After getting ready for the day, I headed downstairs to the kitchen, where Cynthia was already preparing breakfast. "Morning, Cyn."

She looked away from what she was doing for a moment to give me a smile. "Good morning, Edward. Did you sleep well?"

"No." I snorted. That was an understatement.

"Does it have anything to do with the broken liquor cabinet in the living room?" she asked.

I rolled my eyes and chuckled quietly, sitting down at the island with a sigh. "Way to ease in to things."

She shrugged. Beating around the bush was never Cynthia's thing. "Well?"

"It does," I told her, nodding. "But I'm not going to get in to that right now."

Cynthia respected my decision. "How's Bella? After going home yesterday, I couldn't think of anything else. I was so worried. I'm really glad you came home early to be with her."

I hoped she never found out that I never actually went home early.

"Yeah, she's fine, I guess. She was just…" I trailed off. I didn't think freely giving up information of Bella's past was something she would have liked. "It's something she'll have to tell you herself if she feels like you need to know," I finally said.

Cynthia nodded. "Okay." That was it; she let it go. She could respect other people's privacy.

She finished making breakfast and then handed me my plate, placing Bella's in the microwave to keep warm for her while she slept.

"Thank you," I said before digging in.

Cynthia scowled at me for a moment, annoyed that I hadn't said grace, before rolling her eyes. "You're welcome." She poured me a cup of orange juice before heading for the door. "I'm going to go wake up Bella and then get started on laundry. Have a nice day at work, Edward."

"Thanks."

As soon as she left, I tensed, waiting for the moment she'd come running back down here, ready to destroy me. I'd have left to prolong the inevitable, but I had to see Bella before I did.

That moment never came. Twenty minutes later, Cynthia walked past me with a basket of laundry, gave me a smile, and went on about her business. Another thirty minutes after that, Bella came down.

"Good morning, Bella," I murmured.

She walked to the microwave where her breakfast was, Cynthia probably having told her that she'd left it there, and nodded. "Edward."

I didn't know what to say. She didn't appear to remember the night before, and I didn't want to say anything that would trigger a memory of it. "Can we talk about last night?" I asked, albeit cautiously. I needed to know if she remembered _something_.

"Look, Edward, I appreciate you taking care of me last night when I got sick, but let's not bring it up anymore, okay? Let's just…let it go."

That didn't help figure out just how much she remembered about it. I couldn't let it go.

"I can't. I'd really like to know what you remember of the night before," I told her.

She didn't acknowledge I'd said anything.

"I just want to help you fill in the blanks just in case you're confused about anything."

She pulled her plate out of the microwave and, after saying a short grace, started eating.

I snapped, "Do you remember trying to sleep with me last night? Throwing your drunken ass at me, practically begging me to fuck you? Do you remember that?"

Her body tensed, and I got my answer. She did remember that, but I was certain she didn't remember what came after that.

She would have given herself away by now if she remembered _that_.

"Tell me about Edward Sr.," she demanded suddenly, turning around to glare at me. "Tell me about Elizabeth, too, while you're at it. Tell me all about how he hit you and your mother. Let me hear it, Edward."_ Tell me what you remember about those nights_. She didn't say that, but I could see it written all over her face.

Her words caught me off guard. They brought about a familiar pain in my chest that I didn't like, and I opened and closed my mouth a few times to say something to that, anything, but I couldn't. So, I merely glared and said, "I'm only trying to help."

"If I wanted or needed your help, I would have asked," she retorted.

I glared harder. "Fine."

"Fine."

I turned on my heel and walked out the kitchen without another word. She was suddenly starting to piss me off, and had I stayed any longer, an even bigger, more problematic argument would have ensued.

I grabbed my briefcase off the hallway table and walked out through the garage, slamming the door in my anger.

I could understand why my father hated women so damn much.

* * *

><p>"If she's stressing you out this much, why don't you just divorce her?" Tanya asked, rolling her eyes. "Surely pleasing Esme isn't worth all this drama?"<p>

All morning, I'd been trying to work, but I couldn't focus. I was pissed and anxious, tensing whenever my phone rang; sure it was someone in my family calling to threaten my life because Bella remembered and told. My paranoia only pissed me off further. She'd said yes. She wanted it, initiated it. I just wanted to keep it going. My guilt from the previous night had been long gone by time I stepped foot in my office, replaced my anger, irritation, and countless other emotions I couldn't even identify.

Needless to say, when Kate went out on her lunch break, I had enough pent-up frustration to last a lifetime that _not_ calling Tanya wasn't even an option. After a while, she couldn't handle the roughness anymore, and I was too angry to be anything close to patient and gentle that I gave up. I didn't rape women, and I didn't hit them. I didn't want to _stoop_ that low.

_But you already have._ My thoughts were telling me that all day.

After we'd caught our breath and got dressed again, I began to pace. Eventually, I told her all about my "marriage" to Bella. I realized I needed to vent to someone, and I knew she wouldn't be fazed by this, so I told her.

"I can't," I answered.

Tanya finished picking up the last of the papers we'd knocked off my desk and then sat on said desk, raising an eyebrow at me in disbelief. "Why can't you?"

In truth, I couldn't answer that. I didn't have a "why"; I just knew I couldn't. I'd contemplated it earlier, but I threw out the thought almost immediately. Divorce wasn't an option.

"I just can't."

Tanya nodded, a thoughtful look on her face. "I've gotta say, hon, I've never seen you react so…oddly, for lack of a better word, about a woman before."

"Oddly." I snorted. That was one way to put it.

It didn't take a genius to see I hadn't been the same since the arrival of Bella.

"From what you've told me, and from what I'm seeing now, I think I know what this is," Tanya said, looking sure of herself. "I do. I'm sure of it."

When she didn't elaborate, I scowled. "Care to share with the class?"

She smirked. "No, no, I don't, actually."

"Get out," I snapped. If she wasn't going to be helpful, I didn't want to talk with her anymore.

She snickered, never one to be fazed by my anger, grabbed her purse, and got off my desk. "As you wish, my dear; I'll leave."

She winked at me as she walked past, and unable to resist, I gave her ass a firm slap and chuckled at the squeak that came from her. I leaned against my desk and crossed my arms loosely, smirking. "Come see me tomorrow?"

She turned back to look at me and nodded, giving me a smile. "I don't know, Mr. Cullen. What will the others think?" she asked coyly. "What will they say?"

"I was hoping we'd give them something to talk about," I answered.

"Of course you were. You never want to be discreet about _anything_. I'll think about it. Now that I've been inside your workplace, I'm not as reluctant anymore," she said.

The thing about my father is, he needed—not just wanted, but _needed_—everyone to know he was the boss. That _he_ was the reason this company was here and flourishing. One of the ways he saw to doing that was by giving himself his own floor. You could get to this floor by the elevator on the right side and the stairs on the left. Really, it was just a long, dimly lit hallway with a big, glass office in the middle overlooking downtown Seattle. I recalled him from a long time ago saying the long walk from the end of the hall to his office intimated whoever had to come to him. I didn't really see it then, but I see it now.

Since I was now head of this company, I got the office. Ever since I met Tanya, I'd been trying to get her to come here for a little rendezvous, but she wouldn't do it. While she was a bit promiscuous, daring and always looking for fun, she had limits. Finally getting her here was perfect and just what I needed.

"So, tomorrow then?" I said, knowing she would be back.

She rolled her eyes. "Tomorrow it is." She turned to leave, but right before she walked out of the door, she turned back to me. "Just for the record: from what you told me today, and what I've heard about your dad, I don't think you're _anything_ like him."

I watched her walk away with wide eyes, rendered speechless by her last words.

Oddly enough, that made me feel good.

* * *

><p>I threw her a party.<p>

I couldn't say for sure why I did it, but I did. I'd had one planned for the day before, which was her actual birthday, but this was different. I knew this was different, and not just because of the sudden location change.

I just…felt like throwing her a fucking party, and that was the only reasonable explanation I could give Tanya when she'd called to ask me over to her place. Before we got off the phone, I could hear the smirk in her voice, but just like back at my office, she wouldn't elaborate, and I hung up on her in annoyance.

"I'd rented out Kiss, an up-scale club known for its great party hosting, but this is all you get since you decided to skip out," I explained as we pulled up to the park in our neighborhood.

The car ride was silent. It wasn't awkward, but it definitely wasn't friendly, either. There was also a hint of tension, but that was easily ignored by turning the radio on. We were both being stubborn, and it showed.

"This is fine," she mumbled, stepping out of the car.

I turned the car off and got out as well, heading over to the picnic area of the park with her. The smile that took over her face when she spotted everyone was blinding, and I found myself growing jealous at it. _She wouldn't smile at me like that in a hundred years_, I sulked.

The sudden pettiness stopped me up short, and I frowned. I'd never been jealous in my life. I never had a reason to be, so to suddenly be jealous right then out of nowhere was weird, and I didn't like it.

While I thought this over, they all took that moment to hug Bella, passing her from friend to friend. "Happy Birthday!"

Bella laughed, her grin growing bigger. "Thank you!"

The friendlier she got with everyone, the more jealous I got. It skyrocketed whenever she talked to Embry. It was ridiculous; I knew it, especially since _I_ invited him because I _knew_ she liked him, but I was.

It wasn't _that_ hard to act that happy with me.

The music was turned up then, and they all began to enjoy themselves, running amuck on the playground like they were a bunch of children. I took that time to have a few minutes for myself, grabbing a beer and walking a little ways away from them before parking it on a bench.

I sat there for what felt like hours, though I knew it couldn't have been more than thirty or forty minutes, thinking everything over.

I knew the way I thought, the way I behaved, was a little screwed, but there wasn't much I could do about that. It was the way I was raised; it was the way I was, the way I had always been for a long time. I didn't see that changing anytime soon, but I knew I could do better than how I was doing now.

And then there was the situation with Bella. It was messed up from the beginning; I knew that, too, but that couldn't be helped now, either. I would try to handle it much better than I had been, though. I wanted her to stay—I _needed_ her to stay. I didn't want to have to go through the trouble of finding a new wife, and if I stopped avoiding my thoughts, I could admit that I liked her. She was like Rosalie in a few ways, which was why I was sure we could be good friends. I would make this work until I was sure there was absolutely no hope of us and our predicament working out.

I was pulled out of my head by a figure appearing in my peripheral vision, and I looked up to see Bella standing there, looking at me. I decided that we'd start now. We'd wipe our slate clean _again_ and start over.

I grinned at her and beckoned her forward. After getting herself comfortable, I placed my hand on her knee and squeezed it lightly. It was my greeting as I sipped on my beer.

"Weather's perfect for a barbeque," Bella said after we'd been quiet for a while.

I raised an eyebrow at her. After all the arguing we'd been doing, _that_ was all she could come up with to start a conversation? She nodded. That was horrible.

"Edward, about last night…"

I shook my head. I didn't want to think about that night at all. I wanted to forget it all and move on. "Don't mention it, Bella. Really, it's over with."

"But…"

"Honestly, I think I—_we_—should just mind our own business. Going over old things is just completely unnecessary. It's not why we're here, and it's not going to help our situation any, right?" I said, finding this reasonable.

As I watched her go over what I'd just told her in her head, I knew the minute she'd recalled our latest fight from earlier, when she'd mentioned wanting to go home _again_. I was fine, though. I took her threatening to leave with a grain of salt and would only believe it when I saw it.

Bella groaned. "Ugh, I'm sorry. I did it again. I honestly…"

"It wasn't that," I assured her. "I'm just now realizing that we can still keep our personal lives _personal_." That was how I saw it, anyway. We didn't need to tell each other everything. We didn't need to talk about anything from our pasts, etc, etc. We just needed to get finally get along.

She nodded. "Fine."

"Fine."

We weren't able to keep up our straight faces then, breaking out in laughter as the ridiculousness of how we were acting caught up with us. I'd been accusing her of behaving like a child this whole time, not yet realizing that I may have been doing the same thing.

"We have to stop doing that, I think," she said, and I nodded in agreement. "But, yeah, okay. We can do that. Keep our personal lives personal. Shouldn't be too hard."

I stared at her for a moment, glad with the way things went and finding myself happy to have that smile turned on me. "Good."

"Great."

Her tone was a little snarky, but I thought it was just her being funny.

I leveled her with a look that I hope said "Don't start."

"Bella," I said, a quiet warning in my tone.

"Friends?" she asked suddenly, holding her hand out for me.

I chuckled and answered, "Friends." I took her hand and shook it. "We shouldn't have to make up like this every day, you know."

"If you stopped arguing with me, we wouldn't have to," she replied with a shrug.

I opened my mouth to argue, but I realized the mistake in that and only snickered instead. "Happy Birthday, Bella." I handed her my beer, my gift to her "Enjoy."

She took a sip, smirked, and replied, "I shall."

We sat there for the remainder of our time after that, not saying a word, merely enjoying each other's company.

"This beer taste like ass, just so you know," Bella said out of the blue.

I chuckled, and we settled back into our quietness. It was peaceful and comforting, the way we'd been able to just quickly work things out.

However, the moment of peace didn't last for me. I should have known it wouldn't, that this was all too good to be true.

A sense of dread washed over me, and I couldn't help but feel that things were soon going to take a turn for the worst.


	10. Chapter 10: Moving on with life

A|N: As I am in school, constant updates are nearly impossible, especially with school being so close to finishing. I'm hoping the upcoming summer will be a lot easier on me and the things I've been dealing with, as I want to really get this story done.

**Chapter Ten: Moving on with life and hateful sisters**

* * *

><p>After the birthday barbecue in the park, Edward and I seemed to have settled into a kind of acquaintance-like arrangement. We weren't overly friendly, but we weren't at each other's throats anymore, either. We were just…making the best of everything. Eventually, I felt like we were close enough to the point where I could bring up my biggest concern to him.<p>

"Okay, Edward. Here's the deal: I'm _extremely_ tired of staying in this house all day, every day doing _absolutely_ nothing," I said to Edward one morning following my birthday.

The previous night, it hit me that I was getting lazy. Sure, I still worked out, and I still danced, but I was being lazy in every other part of my life. I cleaned and cooked, but Cynthia did most of that because it was her job. I didn't go out anymore. I didn't hang out with friends anymore—granted, I only had two, and one of them considered herself too old to do anything with me—and I didn't work. I was mooching off Edward.

"Well…"

"And another thing! We don't know anything about each other. At least, we don't know the good things about each other," I mumbled, bothered by this.

It didn't take a genius to realize that Edward knew about my anorexia. There were enough small comments that clued me in. I wasn't sure, but I was under the impression that Alice knew, too. I was thinking that was what she was referring to that day she came over, telling me in more words that she hated me.

Anyways, a week prior, he'd finally called me out on it. It was getting bad again—if I were being honest with myself, I would admit that it had been "getting" bad again for a long while now—and he noticed. I, clearly, hadn't told him anything, but I guessed my dad did because, as I said, he'd noticed. I had just turned down a plate of pizza when he asked about it. The conversation eventually led to a fight, which lasted a few days and ended with me crying to him, explaining that I didn't want to relapse, and him promising he'd find me someone that could help me properly.

That was the night I realized Edward and I _still_ didn't know much about each other. I wanted that to change.

"Okay…"

"So," I began, "I was thinking. What if we played Twenty Questions? And then after we play, I look for a job. I know you said I don't have to work because you'll take care of me, but I want to. I wasn't raised to mooch of people, or to be some rich little princess, or to never work, or…"

"Bella…"

I sighed. "You're okay with all of this right?"

"I…"

"I don't want to just jump to conclusions or make you feel obligated," I explained.

I went to say more, but he cut me off with, "I've been waiting for you to bring this up."

"I mean, if you don't…what?" It took me a moment to realize what he said. I grinned. "Really?"

He laughed, folding the newspaper he was reading and placing it on the table, nodding. "Yeah. Well, not the Twenty Questions part, but the wanting to work and get out of the house part. I had been thinking you were cooped up for a while, but you never said anything, so I just thought you didn't really care."

I sat on the couch next to him, shaking my head. "No, I care. It just didn't start getting on my nerves until now, you know? It all finally just caught up to me, and I'm ready to do something about it."

Edward smiled. He had been doing that a lot lately. Things were going really well, and I couldn't have been happier about that.

"I understand. Enough about anything but the game of Twenty Questions for now, though. I'm intrigued and ready to play."

I grinned, he turned to face me, pulling his leg up under himself, and I said, "Okay. Basic question first: what's your favorite color?"

"Um…Brown. Chocolate brown, to be exact," he answered.

I frowned, surprised by that. "Really? I always found the color really…boring, plain."

"Hey, don't judge my answer!" he exclaimed hotly, though his eyes were sparkling with laughter. "What's your favorite movie?"

I made a sound that suspiciously mirrored a dying walrus. "Why would you ask me that?"

"No, no, Bella, it was my turn to ask the question," said Edward, grinning.

I rolled my eyes and thought hard about his question. "Oh what to choose, what to choose," I mumbled, unsure. "It's so hard! Okay. Um. I really, really love _Eternal Sunshine of A Spotless Mind_. Yeah. That's definitely number one of my favorite movies list."

"Well, after watching it four times this week, I'm not surprised by your answer," he said. "Though I was sure you were going to say _Pride & Prejudice _because you watched that almost as much."

I smiled. "That's second. When you were younger, say ten, what did you want to be when you got older?"

"Oh, um, I didn't want to be anything unusual or non-cliché for a kid my age—I wanted to be a doctor," he confessed, looking away from me sheepishly.

I raised a curious brow. "What kind of doctor, Edward?"

"My turn. When you were younger, what's the one thing you've always wanted more than anything?"

"…I've always wanted to be a ballerina," I lied.

It wasn't all a lie. I did want to be a ballerina—part of me still wanted to be—but what I really wanted was so much more personal and complicated, and I just didn't feel like getting into that with Edward right then.

"I could see that," he murmured with a grin, completely unaware of my moment of hesitance.

"My turn. What kind of doctor?"

If I didn't know any better, I would swear Edward Cullen was…blushing.

"Um….I wanted to be an OB/GYN," he admitted, for some reason embarrassed by this.

I blinked. This surprised me greatly, but thinking about it, I guessed I shouldn't have been. Edward, when he wasn't being a self-righteous, "I'm a millionaire, hear me boss you around" asshole, was probably a real charmer.

"Really?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I wanted to deliver kids."

"You wanted to deliver babies?" I gaped. "That's so cute! Wow. I never would've thought. You like kids?"

"My turn," he reminded me.

I shook my head, far too captured in this sudden news to care about the game anymore, leaned forward slightly and repeated, "You like kids?"

Seeing he wasn't going to get out of this, Edward sighed and leaned to the side, resting his arm on the top of the couch and laying his head on it. "Yes. I like kids. I can't see what's not to like. They're…"

"Cute?" I offered, chuckling.

He frowned. "No…"

"Yes…"

"Not the word I want."

I shook my head. "It is."

"Not."

"Edward, it is."

"I don't know any man that ever used the word 'cute' to describe something ever," he said.

I grinned. "I'm looking at one."

The conversation continued to flow easily for the rest of the night, only pausing when we needed to get up for something and the one time Edward got a phone call that he "just couldn't miss." I finally asked him what his real reason for getting me was—"I needed my mother off my back, and a wife always looks good to people who are higher up," he had said. Then he asked me how old I was when I was first diagnosed with anorexia nervosa—"I was four. I was considered a 'special case.' Before me, the youngest the doctors had ever seen was eight," I had answered. Eventually, we got back to talking about my wanting a job and out of the house.

"I want a job, but I don't want just any ole job. I mean, I'll take what I can get right now, but working at a fast food chain for forever isn't something that I want," I explained. "I took the SATs and the ACTs. I got really good scores. I was in the top five of my school, actually. I think…I think I want to go to school."

"Where would you want to go?" Edward asked. He appeared to like this thought.

I smiled. "I looked at Seattle University today before I came to talk to you. I think I'm sold on that, and we're actually really close by."

"Go for it. I know the dean and…"

I shook my head, frowning. "No way! No. I don't want you to do anything, Edward…"

"Aside from supplying the obvious money you'll need," he pointed out.

I ignored him. "I want to get in on my own. I want to know that I was good enough for something, okay?"

"You're good enough for everything." He was firm in his declaration.

There was an awkward pause.

"Um. Thanks," I said.

The conversation sort of died down from there, random small talk here and there. We watched movies for the rest of the night, ending with our favorites: _Eternal Sunshine of A Spotless Mind_ and _The Dark Knight Rises_.

"God, I hated that ending. I loved this trilogy, and that's how they're going to end it? Without giving closure?" complained Edward, putting the DVD back into its case. "I mean, honestly, what the hell were we supposed to do with that?"

I frowned, trying hard not to laugh because he looked _so_ serious. "What do you mean? It was a happy ending. Alfred's fantasy of seeing Bruce again at some restaurant with someone he loves became a reality. Batman will be remembered as a hero. Bruce and Selina get to be happy together! Robin is taking over with Batman's blessing. Rumor has it; he's getting his own movie! What wasn't there to like?"

"I…I don't know," he admitted, frowning as well. "I liked the ending. It was perfect, what I wanted, but I still feel like they left me hanging, you know?"

"Uh, no, but I guess I understand where you're coming from," I told him, nodding. "That's kind of how I felt when _Remember Me_ ended. I mean, I know he died, but that ending? Her little smile, letting us know she'd be okay, and then the credits? Really? Yeah, that's great…but really?"

Edward shook his head. "I haven't seen that movie, but I can see myself hating the end already. You know what really sucked as an ending?"

"_Gone With the Wind_?" I said.

His eyes widened, and he threw his arms in the air in exasperation, exclaiming, "Yes!"

"The movie I could kind of handle, but that book? Oh, my God, I wanted to die and wished I had never read it!"

We stayed up until 3A.M. discussing bad movie endings and bad adaptations of good books. By the time we finally called it a night and headed up the stairs, we were both exhausted.

"Goodnight, Bella," he mumbled tiredly as he headed to his room.

I smiled and began walking toward my own room, but something stopped me in my tracks. It had been on my mind since I first asked the question.

"Hey, Edward?" I called to him, turning back to face his door.

His eyes were partially closed when he turned back to face me. "Hmm?"

"What's the _real_ reason you wanted me here?" I hadn't believed his first answer. At least, I was sure he was not telling me something.

He mumbled, "Got tired of being alone, I guess," and then headed into his room, shutting the door behind him.

I smiled.

_**~MOB~**_

As the days went on, I continued to look into Seattle University, steadily growing excited. College was always something I wanted to do, but it was hardly an option as my family's financial woes continued to grow, which meant things like great universities and dance academies had to be forgotten. Now that it was once again an option, I was ready to go through with it.

"Before you make any final decisions, don't you think you should at least visit the school first? Get a tour, maybe talk to some people that are there to get a feel of the class," Edward suggested, turning away from the coffee pot to face me.

I frowned. "I guess that would make sense. I, obviously, didn't think of that."

"I'll see us up a date for the Saturday after next."

Again, I frowned and sat down at the island where my breakfast was already waiting for me, courtesy of Cynthia. "'Us?'"

It was his turn to frown. "Why do you seem so surprised that I want to go with you?"

Why was I surprised? Sure, we'd been getting along well—so well, actually, that it was hard to believe we didn't like each other in the beginning—but that was it; we only got along well. I knew he would pay what needed to be paid, that he'd do whatever he could to get my in if it came to that, but I hadn't been under the impression that he wanted to actually be a part of it all.

"No reason. Anyway, what's going on this Saturday that you want to wait to do the tour?" I asked. "I'd actually like to get it done now so I can officially make up my mind."

Edward laughed. "You already did officially make up your mind. I'm just delaying you a bit. But anyway, for the longest time now, my mom has been trying to decide when she wanted to invite us over for dinner again…"

My nearly choking on my eggs from snorting cut him off.

"I'm sorry. I just…she wants us to have another dinner, and you're okay with that? Do you not remember how the last dinner ended?"

"Dinner went well. O_ur_ night did not," Edward said. "But like I was saying, she was trying to figure out when to invite us over again. We've been talking about it for a while now, somehow Alice and Emmett got in on the conversation, and that prompted her to suggest a…family barbecue."

"A family barbecue?"

"Yes."

"Where I will no doubt at some point of the night be the center of attention?"

He grimaced. My tone, I was sure, gave away how much I _didn't_ like it. "Yes."

"I wouldn't have a problem with this if I knew Alice wasn't going to be there, but I know she will be," I said.

"What?" He appeared to be in disbelief.

I rolled my eyes. "Edward, your sister hates me. She hates me, and she is going to start problems no matter where we are, I know it."

"Alice doesn't hate you, and she would never start problems with you—especially at Mom's house for a family gathering. She'd burn all her clothes before she did that."

I glared at him. I could understand that he wanted his sister and me to get along. If I was going to be a part of the family, it would be good to have a nice relationship with her, but he refused to see that that just wasn't going to happen. No matter what I did to try and be nice to her, Alice just wasn't going to like me. Ever.

She made that clear when she came over the previous week.

_**~One Week Ago~**_

_It was twelve o'clock in the afternoon, and Cynthia had just finished making brunch. I helped her, wanting to make sure everything was just right. Of course, Cynthia was more than capable of making a perfect meal, but I had to be there to nit-pick at everything because it hadn't been just a regular brunch—Alice was coming over._

_Since Edward and I had decided we would try to give this "marriage" one-hundred and ten percent, I had wanted to make sure that I became a part of the family. Everyone else liked me well enough, and I them, but it seemed no matter what I did, I could never sway Alice._

_The brunch, though Edward would be there beside me, was my chance to get close to her. The way everyone had described her to me, I knew I would like her._

_The doorbell rang a quarter after twelve, and I swallowed nervously. Cynthia and I had just finished setting up the table._

"_Go get it," she'd said encouragingly, softly pushing me toward the kitchen exit._

_I'd nodded, left the kitchen, and headed toward the front door, opening it quickly._

_Alice stood before me in a floral maxi-dress. She looked to have grown a few inches, so I knew she was wearing heels. In her hands, she held a pan of pie. On her face, she wore a scowl._

_I think I had managed to control my grimace just a bit. "Hi, Alice."_

"_Bella." She nodded once._

_That day Rosalie, Alice and I had gone shopping, I thought we had gotten along pretty well. It was rocky at first, especially since I had been convinced even then that she hated me, but it didn't end on a bad note. I thought we were going to be able to be friends._

"_Well, brunch is ready, so come on in." _

_I stepped out of the way to let her inside, closing the door behind and locking it before following her back toward the kitchen._

"_Hey! I'm just getting the drinks. We're eating outside," Edward informed Alice when we got to the kitchen, giving her a loose hug before letting her go to grab the pitcher of lemonade Cynthia had made earlier and a couple of beers for himself._

"_You hate eating out on the patio. What in the world made you okay with it today?"questioned Alice, befuddled by the apparently sudden change._

_Edward smiled. "Bella suggested it, and I thought it would be a good idea."_

_Alice didn't appear to know how to react to that. After a sideways glance my way, she headed out the patio. I gave him a pointed look, which clearly read "She hates me." In return, he gave me an encouraging smile._

_The brunch was awkward to put it mildly. Whenever Alice and Edward weren't lost in their own conversation, Alice was throwing snide comments my way. I didn't know what pissed me off more: the fact that Edward, who was supposed to be my "husband," let her treat me that way, or that I was allowing her to._

_Eventually, I'd had enough and abruptly excused myself to the kitchen, where I helped Cynthia clean up._

"_Edward has been through a lot," Cynthia explained, being careful to keep her voice down. "Alice is only trying to look out for her brother, though she's going about it the wrong way."_

_I scowled. "Everyone has a story, Cyn. Everyone has some part of their past they'd rather forget. Alice is just being downright hateful."_

_We never finished our conversation. Alice and Edward came walking in, laughing over some memory, and helped with the last of dishes, one washing and the other drying. After that, they went upstairs._

_I stayed and helped Cynthia with desert—key lime pie and homemade strawberry ice cream, the latter being my idea since it was both mine and Edward's favorite. She tried to bring up the topic of Alice again, but I wouldn't let her. I was tired of constantly worrying about Alice._

_When it was time for desert, I offered to go up and get the two siblings, and that was when the extent of Alice's hatred for me became clear._

"_You can't honestly be serious about that girl," Alice had said to him._

_I stopped._

"_Bella, Alice. Her name is Bella," was Edward's exasperated-sounding response._

_I could hear Alice's quiet scoff in return. "Forgive me. You can't be serious about __**Bella**__. From what I can tell, she's just like all the other __**skanks**__ you bring around."_

"_Ali…"_

"_No. Don't 'Ali' me, Edward! I believe your feelings for her a real, I do. I've never seen you like this before, but I know she's not serious about you. If anything, she's just after your money. You're young, you're 'hot,' and you're Seattle's 'it' boy. She doesn't love you, and she never will!" Alice snapped._

_I was taken aback by her words. Had I really come off like that? I didn't think so._

"_How much do you know about that gi…Bella, anyway?"she asked._

"_Enough."_

"_So, basically nothing? You just met her in Vegas and thought she was fuckable and said, 'hey, maybe I'll marry that girl?"She mocked his voice poorly._

_The longer she talked, the angrier I got. The way Edward went about getting his "wife" was utterly unconventional, and some days I still had trouble dealing with it— and rightfully so, I thought—but we were selling it; was it really so hard to believe that I loved him?_

"_I mean, you two don't even sleep in the same room for Heaven sakes." She laughed, though it didn't sound like she found anything humorous at all. "If you think I hadn't noticed, you're wrong. I've been over here more than once since she's been here, you know? It isn't hard to notice something like that. If you're married, why aren't you two sleeping together? Did she…" _

"_Alice!" Edward snapped. He seemed to finally be having enough. "Bella is my wife, and nothing you say is going to change that. I know you're just looking out for me, but I can handle myself, all right? Lay off her. Believe it or not, I want my sister and my wife to get along."_

_There was a pause before she asked, in a quiet voice, "Do you want kids?"_

_I wondered if that took him as off guard as it did me._

"_Yes, you know that," he said without hesitation._

_Apparently, it hadn't._

_His answer terrified me to no end. How long were we supposed to keep this charade up? We had both said no sex, but how long did he plan on staying that way? What exactly was he expecting of me?_

_With the all these new questions jumping at me with every thought, I suddenly found myself wanting to call it all off again._

"_Edward…Bella is—was—anorexic."_

_A quiet gasp left my mouth, and I threw my hand over it, nervous for just a moment that they heard me—they hadn't. _

_Tears pooled into my eyes immediately. She didn't have to say anymore; the direction she was going in was an obvious one._

"_From what we know, there's no way she can bear children. It'd be impossible. And even if she could conceive one, her chances of carrying out a full term are slim. Since not knowing her well enough means nothing to you, does that?"_

"…_Adoption…"_

_I didn't hear anything else after that, as I left and locked myself in my room for the remainder of the day._

_For as long as I could remember, the subject of kids had always been an extremely touchy one for me. There was always that possibility that I couldn't physically have any of my own, but I tried to never think about it._

_Their conversation had been the first time I ever stayed around long enough to hear the possibility spoken out loud._

_**~MOB~**_

The emotion on Edward's face was hard to decipher. Not knowing what he thought put me on edge, and I wondered if I should have just kept the fact that I'd heard their conversation to myself.

"I wasn't aware that you'd heard that," he said. "I'm sorry."

I shook my head. I hadn't gone into detail about everything, and I didn't want to suddenly, then. "Don't worry about it, but do you see my point? Edward, just admit it—what she's doing goes far beyond 'looking out for you.' It's…its' plain hatred and I don't deserve it."

"Maybe you're right."

"Maybe I'm right?" I scowled. "I am right. Talk to her, but if that doesn't work, I'm going to talk to her myself."

I'd honestly had enough. How much shit was I supposed to take?

"What's her problem anyway?"

Edward looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, it can't just be me. There's has to be a reason why she's behaving this way toward me."

He nodded. Before I could ask him to say something, he went on to explain that it wasn't his place to tell and then announced that it was time for him to go to work before abruptly leaving.

I sighed and went and did what I always did all day: nothing.

That would be the last day I did nothing, though, and it would be the last time I put up with Alice's shit. Whether she was troubled or not, she didn't have to take it out on me. Whether I was bought or not, I'd be treated with respect, and I would do something with my life.

I had the potential to be something great, and I didn't want to waste that any more.

I didn't want to be just Edward Cullen's wife anymore.


End file.
